《Vainglory [LitRPG, Progression Fantasy]》 1. Dark Dealings 1 ¨C Dark Dealings Ward Dyer was due to retire in less than a month. He¡¯d been on the job for twenty-two years, since the second week after he finished his four-year stint with the Marines. If you asked him, he¡¯d put in his dues. It was time to move on to something where he might be appreciated a bit more. He¡¯d done his time in the uniform, and maybe things had been different twenty years ago, but he remembered people in his neighborhood liking him. He¡¯d gotten waves and ¡°Hellos!¡± and people had been eager to chat him up when he got home from a shift. Sure, they were neighbors, not the people on his patrol, but even considering that, he hadn¡¯t felt things had been so ugly. ¡°Yeah, things are definitely different now,¡± he grumbled, looking at the gray tenement through the drizzling rain. He couldn¡¯t really find it in himself to feel resentful. He knew there were some real shitheads in his line of work. Was he an altar boy? Hell no, but he could say, with a straight face, that he always tried to do right by people. Maybe it was easier for him, being a criminal investigator for the Port Authority. He wasn¡¯t on the streets like those SPD grunts, so he really couldn¡¯t relate to all the stuff in the news. However you looked at it, Ward was ready to be done with the department, ready to move on to something a hell of a lot quieter as he slowly aged into obscurity. ¡°Eighteen years investigating everything from missing boats to kidnapping, and this is how I go out? Watching one broken-down building after another? Sitting on my can in a car with worn-out seats, waiting to see if this creepy SOB pokes his head out? I should just go sit at Harvey¡¯s¡ªsip coffee, eat some slices of pie, flip through my socials. What¡¯re they gonna do? Fire me? Shit, I have enough sick leave to go home right now, finish out my year in my boxers¡ª¡± He cut his monologue short as a figure wearing a heavy, dark trench coat exited the tenement. He had the collar pulled up, and his face was down, but damn if he didn¡¯t have the same shitty combover as Lafferty. ¡°Is that you, you slippery asshole?¡± Suddenly, his thoughts of ducking out early, of riding out his last year from the comfort of home, didn¡¯t seem so appealing, not next to the idea that he might bag a genuine serial killer before he started his new career as a landscaper. That was his big plan¡ªget out of the force while he still could and work in his brother-in-law¡¯s landscaping business. He¡¯d only do it until he was old enough to start collecting his police pension. The whole idea was to avoid ending up like those dinosaurs who worked a desk until even the union couldn¡¯t defend their screwups. No, Ward wanted to get out while he could still enjoy life a little. He grunted softly as he slipped out of the driver¡¯s door, careful not to make any noise when he pushed it closed. The rain drizzled off his hat and ran off the shoulders of his waterproof overcoat. He¡¯d worked in the Pacific Northwest long enough to know how to dress for a stakeout. He had to hop over the little stream of rainwater running along the curb as he shadowed the figure¡ªLafferty, he hoped¡ªup the street, walking briskly uphill. ¡°Gotta love Seattle,¡± Ward grumbled, digging in, climbing the steep grade, careful to keep parked vehicles between himself and his quarry. He was pretty sure he¡¯d seen a dozen cars slide down a hill like this during the last freezing rain. People never learned. They¡¯d think, ¡°Oh, I have front-wheel drive! I can climb this hill!¡± Next thing you know, seven cars would be piled up at the bottom. Ward¡¯s breath was getting a bit short as he crested the steep grade, but he was all right; he¡¯d been doing his cardio. Shit, in fact, his neighbor had talked him into joining a CrossFit gym a few months back, and he¡¯d actually been enjoying it. It felt like he was back in the Marines, working with his unit on PT. He knew it wasn¡¯t anything near as intense, and the stakes weren¡¯t anywhere close, but still, it was nice to have a kind of drill instructor telling him what to do so he could shut his brain off while he exercised. Lafferty¡ªWard had decided to be optimistic¡ªturned suddenly, heading down an alley between two tall buildings. No one was out, at least not on that street, and Ward thought it was a pretty damn weird place to be turning. Who walks into an alley two blocks away from their apartment building in the middle of the night, in the rain? ¡°Fishy,¡± he muttered, edging up to the corner with his shoulder against the brick wall. As the rain drizzled on the brim of his hat, he peered into the darkness. Thirty yards ahead, he saw Lafferty step behind a dumpster. ¡°The hell are you doing in there?¡± Ward was careful to keep his voice close to a whisper. ¡°Something definitely hinky going on.¡± He reached into the seam of his dark gray overcoat and pulled out his snub-nosed .357 revolver. The department made him qualify with the Glock they¡¯d issued him, but he also was qualified with the revolver, technically his backup gun. It was the only gun he ever carried on duty, though. He liked the Glock all right, but everyone gave him grief about his Smith & Wesson, and, at this point, it was as much a personal challenge as a preference. He liked going against the grain, and the fact that everyone else in the CID walked around with identical nine-millimeter, black semi-automatics was a point of pride for Ward. Holding the chromed barrel close to his chest, he proceeded into the alley. When he stepped away from the streetlight, he paused and fished his little hand-held flashlight out of his jacket pocket. He didn¡¯t turn the light on right away; Ward was still hoping to figure out what Lafferty was doing in that alley, and he¡¯d never know if he spooked him into running. He stepped carefully, avoiding litter and puddles¡ªno telling how deep they were¡ªand approached the dumpster. He was getting a little concerned by the fact that Lafferty hadn¡¯t emerged from behind it, that he hadn¡¯t proceeded further into the alley. What was he doing back there? Was he setting an ambush? Ward angled away from the big, rusty, green trash bin, holding the gun close so it wasn¡¯t an easy grab, just in case the little jerk was waiting to surprise him. Oddly, though, as he cleared the corner of the dumpster, there wasn¡¯t any sign of the guy. ¡°Huh.¡± Ward tilted up his plain black ballcap to scratch his brow. He had an itch where the rough, scratchy inner band rubbed against his hairline. He¡¯d bought the hat and four others for fifteen bucks off the internet, and he was regretting his penny-pinching. He rubbed the cool metal of his little pocket light back and forth over the itch while he edged toward the dumpster and peered within. The lids were hanging behind it, left open by the sanitation workers, and it was easy to see that nothing but a few bags of garbage sat at the bottom of the reeking container. He backed away, then edged around the side again, trying to figure out if he¡¯d just been seeing shadows or if Lafferty had somehow crawled between the big metal container and the brick wall. ¡°What the shit?¡± Ward stepped forward and thumbed his flashlight on, pointing it into the foot-wide gap behind the dumpster. ¡°Well, well, well.¡± Sure enough, a square of bricks had been removed from the wall behind the big garbage container, something like two feet by four. ¡°Did he really squeeze in there? Sonofabitch.¡± Ward crouched down, peered behind the dumpster, poking his little flashlight toward the hole in the wall. When he pressed the button on the bottom, and the beam illuminated the dark hole, he saw concrete steps leading down and a shadow that bolted out of sight. The furtive movement startled him, and Ward stumbled back against the wet metal of the garbage bin and slapped his flashlight hand against his pocket, digging for his phone. He stuck the end of his light in his mouth, and then, with his gun still pointing at the hole, he thumbed a message to his partner, Tony Demonte. Found Lafferty. Hole in alley behind dumpster!!! Between galactic donuts and hoyt¡¯s music. Call me backup! Ward slipped his phone, light, and gun into his coat pocket, grabbed the side of the dumpster, and heaved, trying to give himself a couple more inches. It was almost empty, and he was a big guy, but it didn¡¯t budge. ¡°Dammit! He braced a foot against the bricks and strained, pulling against the wet, rough metal. He jerked and pushed with his leg and was awarded by the metal scraping over the ground a hand¡¯s breadth. ¡°Good enough.¡± With his flashlight in his left hand and his magnum leveled toward the dark hole, he wedged himself behind the garbage bin and proceeded, crouching, into the hole. He found himself in a damp stairwell with concrete steps and moldy drywall completely covered with graffiti in a thousand different styles. A latched metal door led further into the building, but the movement he¡¯d seen had been toward the steps leading down, so he pointed his light that way. He saw a dark, trash-strewn landing and more concrete steps leading further into darkness. The metal railing was damp with moisture and rusted where the ancient blue paint had chipped away. Ward put his back to the wall and carefully descended. Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Something stank in that stairwell, and it wasn¡¯t just garbage and mold. It smelled like something had died a while ago, and the pungent, gag-inducing reek was enough to make Ward shift his grip on his light so he could hold his jacket sleeve in front of his face. He got to the landing and aimed his light down, only to reveal another twist in the stairwell. He kept on, slowly descending, wondering why he was going in there alone without waiting for backup. He even went so far as to tell himself, ¡°I should wait.¡± Still, he pressed on, and that¡¯s when he saw the source of the stench. A corpse with bloody, exposed bones and not much flesh sat in the corner of the next landing. Ward could see the rotting skin around the figure¡¯s neck and chest, but its hands and face had been nearly picked clean. Rats by the dozens scurried and squeaked as his light fell on the scene, and Ward was suddenly grateful that he hadn¡¯t eaten dinner. Still, his gag reflex heaved, and he pressed his sleeve tight to his face. He looked away from the corpse, shifting his attention to the stairs leading further down; now more than ever, he had to be ready for an ambush. Things had just escalated to life and death. ¡°Can¡¯t stop now.¡± Of course, he could, but that idea didn¡¯t register. He turned the corner on the stairwell and continued down, and this time, his light illuminated a closed, brown metal door at the bottom. He approached, fearing he¡¯d be locked out, but then he saw that the door latch had been removed. A rectangle of metal had been cut away, leaving the door hanging loose in the frame. ¡°Huh. Sawzall, maybe? Angle grinder?¡± He carefully grabbed the rough metal inside the cut and pulled it wide. A dim corridor extended to a distant corner, illuminated by yellow-orange, flickering light fixtures. This was getting weird. Had he descended into part of the old Seattle underground? ¡°Maybe backup isn¡¯t such a¡ª¡± He stopped muttering at the distant sound of a scream. ¡°Oh, dammit!¡± Ward started forward again. ¡°Am I really going to get my ticket punched right before retirement? Isn¡¯t this a clich¨¦?¡± Ward wasn¡¯t really worried. One thing he¡¯d never been accused of was being a chicken-shit. Dumbass? Sure. Still, he didn¡¯t feel, at that moment, that he was being stupid. He was doing his job; he had a dangerous suspect cornered, he¡¯d seen evidence of a possible murder, and he¡¯d just heard someone scream. The department would be pissed that he didn¡¯t wait for backup, but waiting around wasn¡¯t why he¡¯d signed up. He¡¯d signed up to help people who needed it, not after they needed it. Besides, he didn¡¯t give a shit if he got written up for breaking policy; he¡¯d be gone before the paperwork got anywhere. Ward crept up to the corner and peered around it. Another long hallway led away, but this time, it ended in an open doorway, backlit by more flickering orange light. He didn¡¯t like walking toward that opening through that long, empty hallway¡ªit set him up like a fish in a barrel if anyone wanted to take a shot at him. Regardless, he crouched low and, bad knee screaming at him the whole way, hurried toward that opening. Nothing happened; no one popped into view and blasted him to bits. Ward reached the opening, and when he peered through, he had to step back, squeeze his eyes shut, knock his head against the wall, and reopen them to have another look. He must have been seeing things. ¡°What in the name of¡ª¡± His bewildered curse was cut short as a hooded figure looked his way, and he had to duck back. Ward felt like he was losing it. He¡¯d seen not just four hooded figures but an ancient ballroom¡ªa vast, dusty, wood-paneled room straight out of some 1940s musical, five stories underground in the middle of a city. A massive chandelier hung in the middle of the room, flickering with spotty electrical service as half its ancient bulbs struggled to work. Beneath the chandelier, carved into the old, water-damaged hardwood floors, was a strange, circular pattern. Crazier than all that, he¡¯d seen a naked woman on the ground in the middle of the circle and Lafferty standing above her, flipping through the pages of a dictionary-sized book. ¡°Nah. To hell with this.¡± Ward stood up and lifted his gun. He strode into the improbable chamber with its vaulted, crumbling plaster ceiling. ¡°Get the fuck on the ground, assholes!¡± Lafferty glanced at him with wide eyes, looked back to his book, and kept on reading, mumbling some weird words that didn¡¯t sound like English or Spanish or any other language Ward had heard. ¡°I said, get on the ground!¡± He jerked his gun for effect, approaching the bizarre group. None moved, though Ward could see the woman writhing against her bonds. He was only about fifteen yards from the first of the robed figures when the guy turned, lifted an eight-inch butcher knife, and charged toward him. ¡°Drop the knife!¡± Ward screamed, and when the guy didn¡¯t comply, he squeezed the trigger. A fountain of blood sprayed out as his magnum hollow point erased half the guy¡¯s neck. He tumbled, sliding with the momentum of his sprint, and his knife clattered and bounced past Ward on the wooden floor. ¡°Get on the ground!¡± he screamed again. Lafferty¡¯s voice had risen in volume the whole while Ward had approached, and now, as he saw his companion get blasted, he began to shout the weird words, competing with Ward as he doggedly repeated, ¡°Get on the ground!¡± Ward wasn¡¯t a rookie, and he knew the next asshole might have a knife, too, but he wouldn¡¯t stand around and wait for Lafferty or one of his cronies to hurt the girl. He didn¡¯t know why one of the robed guys had charged him while the others hadn¡¯t, but he needed to make them understand that he meant business. He strode up to the one opposite Lafferty in their little circle and grabbed him by the back collar of his robe. He stepped back and yanked. ¡°Get on the goddamn ground!¡± To Ward¡¯s surprised embarrassment, the robed ¡°guy¡± let out a high-pitched scream and tumbled back, much lighter than he¡¯d expected. The woman smashed onto the ground with a startled cry, and it seemed to Ward, when he looked into her wide-open brown eyes, that she was disoriented¡ªsurprised to see him. Had she not heard his commands or the gunshot? ¡°Didn¡¯t you hear me? Stay on the ground!¡± Ward looked back at the circle just in time to see the other two robed figures turn toward him and lift long knives. ¡°Drop ¡®em!¡± he roared, stepping back, only to trip over the woman he¡¯d pulled down. He fell backward and caught himself on his left hand with a painful crack. He collapsed to his elbow, his wrist unable to hold him. He flailed his other arm but managed to hold onto his gun. Ward swung the barrel toward the knife-wielders and didn¡¯t hesitate: He blasted. Ward might not be the best at paperwork, but he was a damn good shot. He took both assailants in the chest, one shot each. He didn¡¯t always double-tap as some ¡°experts¡± insisted; he only had six shots before he¡¯d have to reload, and it wasn¡¯t like he was working with a pea shooter. As Lafferty¡¯s two cronies fell, both unmoving and gushing blood from massive chest wounds, Ward, functioning on adrenaline, struggled to his feet and shouted, ¡°Drop that goddamn book and get on the ground!¡± Lafferty shrieked something in that weird language, and then he looked up from the book, clapping it shut. His neon-orange eyes might be enough to give most people pause, but Ward had just blasted three people, and he wasn¡¯t in the mood to be scared off by Halloween props. He looked Lafferty in the face and said, for what felt like the hundredth time, ¡°Get on the ground, asshole!¡± ¡°Too late, fool. Observe!¡± Lafferty¡¯s final word was a triumphant crow as he dropped his book and yanked a long, curved, snake-like knife out of his robe, lifting it high. Ward was done. He was injured, alone, and already looking at the worst psych review he¡¯d ever experienced. He pulled his thick finger against the trigger of his trusty .357 and put one right between Lafferty¡¯s eyes. The madman collapsed in a heap, his brains painting the wooden floor in a fan-shaped spray. Ward stepped forward. ¡°You okay, lady? Don¡¯t worry, I got him. Let me see here, uh, I can put my coat over you, but let me get a look at these ropes . . .¡± Ward¡¯s words trailed off as he got a better look at the woman. Her wrists and ankles were tied to stakes that someone had pounded into the floorboards. As he¡¯d noted, she was naked, but something else was off. She looked up at him, and he saw that her mouth wasn¡¯t gagged. Why wasn¡¯t she yelling or speaking or crying or . . . something? Ward paused at the circle''s edge, contemplating waiting for backup before he did anything else. He¡¯d neutralized the threats, right? He could take things slower from there. ¡°Threats¡ª¡± Ward jerked his head to the right and started to turn. He¡¯d forgotten the hooded woman! What kind of rookie move was that? Never take your eyes off a suspect! Never turn your back on one! He¡¯d just started to berate himself when he felt something like a punch in his kidney. It was worse than a punch, though, worse even than the time he¡¯d gotten in a fight with Lewis Thibodeaux at the Lucky Star, and he¡¯d ruptured his spleen. He finished turning, sweeping his uninjured gun hand in an arc, knocking the woman who¡¯d stabbed him to the side. She spun on him, a savage grin on her face with narrowed, scowling eyes¡ªdefinitely no longer disoriented. Ward felt hot fluid pumping down his pant leg, and he knew he was pouring blood out of the spigot she¡¯d just put in him. ¡°Drop it!¡± he barked. In answer, the woman growled and lifted the knife. Ward shot her in the center of her chest, and she collapsed. The knife clattered to the ground by his feet. ¡°Dammit.¡± 2. Welcome to Vainglory 2 ¨C Welcome to Vainglory Ward groaned and pressed his knuckles to the wound on his lower back. He could feel the hot blood, but the injury didn¡¯t hurt too much. He figured that wasn¡¯t a good sign. He bent over, and the world swam as he braced himself on his knees. He slipped his gun into his coat pocket, and, with another grunt, he scooped up the knife and turned back to the bound woman. Figuring he might bite it before his backup arrived, he thought he might as well untie her. He took one stumbling step toward her into the circle, then fell to a knee, stars exploding in his vision. ¡°Shit.¡± As dark tunnel walls closed in on him, Ward fell forward and tried to catch himself on his wounded wrist. It gave way, and he fell onto his face, bumping his chin on the stone. While falling, he¡¯d extended his right arm with the knife, and now he felt someone wiggling it. The woman, he supposed; he¡¯d fallen close enough for her to get the knife. He decided that was good, at least. If she could free herself, maybe she could help guide the first responders. ¡°Uniforms are almost here, I bet,¡± he muttered. The knife slid out of his fingers, and Ward grunted, blinking his eyes to try to clear the haze and see the weird pattern on the floor where he¡¯d fallen. From his perspective, with his cheek on the wood, it looked like the lines were stretching away from him. ¡°Damn,¡± he wheezed when he realized how cold he¡¯d gotten. Was that the blood loss? He supposed it was, though he was surprised he could still see; the black tunnel walls hadn¡¯t closed in. Maybe because he was lying down and not moving? Maybe he could hold on long enough to get help. Maybe the woman would put some pressure on that wound. He tried to ask her what was happening, but his throat was so dry that all that came out was a raspy wheeze. Ward licked his lips and tried to circulate some saliva so he could try again. ¡°You¡¯re dying, Ward.¡± The voice was right next to his ear, the words sharp, clear, and feminine. The speaker¡¯s hot breath tickled his flesh. ¡°No shit,¡± he grunted. ¡°I can help you. You helped me, and I have everything necessary: the words were spoken, however feebly, and blood aplenty fed the circle. Can I help you, Ward? It won¡¯t cost you much.¡± ¡°Cost?¡± Ward wheezed, his mushy mind trying to make sense of her words. Was the woman saying she¡¯d let him die if he didn¡¯t pay up? He wanted to tell her to pound sand, but he supposed he might die if someone didn¡¯t stop that bleeding. ¡°Can I help you, Ward?¡± she repeated. ¡°Help,¡± he grunted, and just as he uttered it, his sluggish brain realized she shouldn¡¯t know his name. ¡°Good! Good, Ward. That was a good decision.¡± He felt the woman lay her hand over his temple. Her flesh was hot as she pressed down, and Ward felt some of that warmth flowing into him. It was a wonderful feeling, really, almost like stepping into a bath on a cold, drizzly day. The warmth spread through him; the stars faded from his vision, and the dark tunnel walls pulled back. Ward felt better, stronger, and he wondered what the hell the woman had done. Had she dosed him with something? He pushed himself up with his right hand, and when he was sitting on his butt in the middle of the circle, he slapped at his coat pocket, panicking momentarily as he tried to remember where he¡¯d put his gun. Sure enough, it sat, a comforting weight, in his pocket. Smiling, Ward looked up to thank the woman, only to see she wasn¡¯t in the circle. He spun, looking for her amid the carnage of the bodies, and saw her lying outside the pattern¡¯s outer ring. She looked unconscious, eyes closed, chest moving in and out with a regular rhythm. ¡°Huh.¡± Ward moved to stand, reaching down with his left hand for support. He almost pulled it back, remembering his injury at the last second, but when he pressed down with his weight, nothing hurt. ¡°Huh,¡± he said again. He was halfway to standing when the edges of the circle burst into brilliant yellow light, momentarily blinding him. Ward fell back onto his butt again. His mind ran to strange conclusions, trying to explain the light. Had the EMTs arrived? Was he unconscious and seeing the lights above the surgical table? He could feel the floor under his hand, though, and the lights started fading. Ward held still as the dazzling glare gradually diminished, and he found himself able to focus again. More disorientation hit him when the light never entirely went away, and he realized he was sitting under a bright, pale blue sky. A hoarse whisper escaped his lips as he looked around, ¡°I¡¯m losing it. I¡¯ve lost it. Am I dead?¡± Ward was sitting atop a large, relatively flat boulder, and around him, beneath a bright sky, stretched the charred remains of an enormous forest. All he could see, from horizon to horizon, were blackened trees and scorched earth. The air was warm and fresh, with a faint hint of char as the only clue that a great fire had occurred there. ¡°Did I . . . Did I have a stroke? Am I¡ª¡± ¡°You¡¯re not dead.¡± Ward jerked his head to the voice. Sitting cross-legged on the stone beside him was the woman from the ancient ballroom. No, Ward realized that wasn¡¯t right. She wasn¡¯t the same woman. Her hair was different¡ªlonger, straighter, blonder. More than the hair, though, was that she wore a slim, black dress suit. ¡°Those eyes, though,¡± Ward muttered, staring into the woman¡¯s red eyes that seemed filled with flickering flames. The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. ¡°My eyes? I suppose they¡¯re rather distinctive. How do you feel, Ward?¡± ¡°I¡¯m . . .¡± Ward looked around at the burned forest and the pale sky, then back at the beautiful young woman. ¡°I¡¯m nuts, I guess. Finally lost it.¡± ¡°Oh, brother! Come on, old man.¡± She erupted to her feet and moved to stand facing him squarely. ¡°That¡¯s the most creative explanation you can come up with? ¡®I¡¯m dead,¡¯ ¡®I¡¯m nuts.¡¯ Good grief! I gave up a perfectly fit host for you. You¡¯re going to have to sharpen up!¡± She had a soprano voice that rang with authority, and she enunciated her syllables very clearly as she stared those fiery eyes straight at him. ¡°Sharpen up?¡± Ward growled, clambering to his feet and looking down at the slight figure. ¡°Who the hell are you?¡± ¡°I¡¯m¡ªwell, you can call me ¡®Grace;¡¯ my real name would be hard for you to pronounce.¡± ¡°Grace?¡± Ward frowned and looked past the young woman, slowly turning to take in his surroundings again now that he was on his feet. ¡°Where the hell are we? The last thing I remember, I was bleeding out in an abandoned ballroom.¡± Ward slapped at his lower back, feeling for the wound, but only found a hole in his jacket¡ªnothing was sore. Grace watched him with a raised eyebrow, stepping back toward the edge of the big, flat boulder. ¡°Not gonna answer me?¡± ¡°I¡¯m wondering how much you¡¯ll work out on your own¡ª¡± ¡°Goddammit!¡± Ward growled, stomping toward her. ¡°What is going on?¡± ¡°Oh, fine! Boring!¡± She stood with elbows akimbo, fists on hips, and glared. ¡°You¡¯re not dead, but you¡¯re not on Earth anymore, either. Understand now?¡± ¡°What?¡± Ward looked at her like she¡¯d sprouted a third eye. He looked around at the weird scenery again, then at the sky, and when his eyes drifted toward the sun, he had to slap his hands in front of his eyes to keep from staring at it¡ªthem. There were two. He could feel his breaths coming more quickly, could feel them growing more and more shallow as he struggled to get enough oxygen. Ward leaned forward, hands on knees, and tried to force himself to take a deep breath. His body wouldn¡¯t work with him; his heart began to race as each inhalation felt more and more constrained. ¡°Snap out of it!¡± the woman, Grace, shouted, slapping him across the face. Ward stumbled back, but hot fury sent a rush of blood to his neck, and he stood up straight, stepping toward her. ¡°What was that for?¡± ¡°You¡¯re panicking, Ward! Snap out of it! What would you do if a rookie started acting like you are?¡± Those words hit him like a bucket of ice water. If some rookie were freaking out around him like this, he¡¯d probably slap ¡®em silly, too. ¡°Fair enough.¡± He meant it. He already felt better; that slap to the face was just what he¡¯d needed, and now he was too damned embarrassed to let his mind get away from him again¡ªtime to assess the situation. ¡°Okay, I¡¯m not dead, and I¡¯m not on Earth. That¡¯s not enough. Tell me what happened.¡± Grace smiled and began to pace back and forth, a spring in her step. Ward noticed that she didn¡¯t have shoes on. She wore a black dress suit, but no shoes. He shook his head, staring at her slender feet, trying to make sense of it while she answered, ¡°Maybe you won¡¯t be so bad. I like it more when you¡¯re a bit tough and rugged. None of that panicky nonsense, okay, Ward? I¡¯m stuck with you, at least for now, so let¡¯s try not to be tedious to each other. So, what happened? Well, you were very heroic and got yourself hurt trying to help me. I don¡¯t usually feel sorry for people. Well, I really never do, but you were interesting to me, and I had a funny urge. I wondered if you might be more fun to hang around with than my other host, and let me tell you, she was pretty gifted, so you¡¯ve got your work cut out for you. I¡ª¡± ¡°Woah, hold on, motormouth.¡± Ward reached into his pocket, getting his .357 out. He popped the cylinder and dumped the empty brass into his free hand, separating out the one live round and dropping it back into a chamber. ¡°Slow down, and let me get a word in. Now, what do you mean by host?¡± Ward deposited the empty brass into his coat pocket, reached under his coat, into the front pocket of his navy blue trousers, and pulled out a handful of fresh rounds. ¡°Host? This is where things might be a little hard to swallow, but try to stay chill, Ward. You see, I don¡¯t really have a body. I¡¯m not here. I¡¯m here for you, I guess, but that¡¯s because I¡¯m in you. You can feel me and hear me and all that because we¡¯re sharing your . . . parts.¡± ¡°What?¡± Ward snorted, dropping five rounds into the cylinder and slapping it shut. ¡°That woman you saved was my host. Now you¡¯re my host.¡± ¡°So, you¡¯re like a tapeworm.¡± Ward was feeling a lot better with a loaded gun in his hand. He didn¡¯t know what to make of the woman, but something was definitely not right; either he¡¯d been roofied and dumped in some burned-out forest he¡¯d never heard of, or something was true about her BS. ¡°That¡¯s rude!¡± She stepped forward and punched him in the shoulder, and it rocked him back; for a little thing, she had a hell of a follow-through. ¡°Easy!¡± Ward rubbed his shoulder and winced. ¡°Come on, finish your story.¡± He rolled his hand like one does to tell someone else to get on with it. ¡°You were saying I¡¯ve got my work cut out for me.¡± ¡°Right! My previous host was very talented. You . . . well, I can already tell you¡¯re going to struggle. It feels like we might be a good match, though. I think you might have some affinity for mana, but your body¡¯s not suited for its use. I¡¯m quite sure you won¡¯t even be able to utter any words of power without tearing yourself apart. We¡¯ll have a long row to hoe, but I think we can get there. Worst case scenario¡ªyou die, and I have to drift on the ether for a while. We¡¯re in the right place, at least!¡± She held her arms wide, indicating the devastated environment. Ward put aside all the other crazy words she¡¯d uttered and asked, ¡°The right place? Where are we, then?¡± Grace stood on her red-polished toes and pirouetted as she replied, ¡°Cinder! The lowest of the Vainglory worlds.¡± 3. Crash Course 3 ¨C Crash Course Ward snorted again and raised a thick brown eyebrow, locking his pale eyes with Grace¡¯s strange, fiery ones. ¡°The hell do you mean the ¡®lowest world?¡¯ The hell is ¡®Vainglory?¡¯¡± Grace might not have realized it, but at that moment, Ward decided she wasn¡¯t real. As far as he was concerned, something had snapped in his noodle, and he needed to start figuring things out, needed to get himself straight. Grace stepped to the edge of the boulder and dropped down out of sight. Ward felt some relief when she vanished. Maybe his delusion was fading. ¡°Well?¡± her voice rang out clear as a bell. ¡°Come down and walk with me, and I¡¯ll explain on the way.¡± Ward walked over to the edge and looked down to see her standing on the charred ground. From this distance, he could see the ash was mixed with dirt, and little sprouts of green were poking forth here and there. ¡°Why?¡± ¡°Why?¡± She frowned and gave him that glare again. ¡°You just want to keep adding questions, or would you like to get some answers? Let¡¯s move, old man!¡± She turned and started lightly springing over the ashy loam, her delicate feet somehow remaining clean with her passage. ¡°Old man?¡± Ward grumbled, then sat on the edge of the gigantic boulder and slid down the edge, dropping five or six feet to the ground. The drop further convinced him that he was in the midst of a delusion¡ªhe landed easily, his knees bending to absorb the impact, and not one of his joints protesting. ¡°No way.¡± He dropped into a squat and stood up, then repeated the movement three or four times¡ªnot one click or twinge of pain from his bad knee. ¡°Are you coming?¡± Grace called, and Ward looked to see her a good thirty yards away, standing between two blackened tree trunks and waving. He stood and started forward, determined to get some answers from the feminine delusion. As he approached, she turned and began walking again, albeit more slowly. He caught up, and she spoke, ¡°There are seven Vainglory worlds. They¡¯re called that by common consensus because the first explorers to work through some of the challenges named them so. Vainglory, boastfulness, you get the idea? If they survived, they returned to other settled worlds and bragged about their accomplishments, and so the seven worlds and their suns became Vainglory.¡± She squinted and pointed at the suns over Ward¡¯s left shoulder. Ward opened his mouth and took a breath, but before he could ask another question, she kept speaking, ¡°Cinder is the lowest because the challenges are the easiest; the rewards are the smallest.¡± ¡°We¡¯re in another solar system?¡± Ward chuckled, shaking his head. ¡°I like sci-fi, but I don¡¯t think I¡¯d dream something like this up. I wonder how bad the coma is. You reckon everyone¡¯s just standing around my bed waiting for me to die?¡± ¡°Everyone, Ward? Whom do you mean? Your sister? I suppose your brother-in-law might come to the hospital . . .¡± She stopped speaking, and her eyes flared with brighter flames as she scowled at him. ¡°Ward! Stop with the nonsense! You¡¯re not in the hospital! You¡¯re on Cinder, and I¡¯m stuck in here,¡± she jabbed a sharp pointer finger into his chest, ¡°so you better get with the program!¡± ¡°Okay, lady.¡± Ward shook his head, grinning wryly. ¡°Can you explain why we¡¯re here?¡± He paused and rolled his eyes. ¡°I get it, you jumped into my body ¡®cause I was dying, but why are we here? Why aren¡¯t we still in the old ballroom under Seattle?¡± ¡°Well, I told you there would be a cost . . .¡± She folded her hands before herself and looked up at Ward almost guiltily. Ward might have called the look demure if not for the fire in her eyes. ¡°You see, I was in a good host back there, but we were stuck on Earth! The mana on Earth is so thin, Ward! We could hardly get anything done. I tried to get her to bargain with me a little, to give me a little anima so I could open a portal to a better place like this, but she was scared and stingy. I was almost grateful those cultists took her. The rite they performed, with the old book and the blood sacrifice¡ªit made the portal a lot cheaper. I would normally need more anima than a single person could spare to make it work.¡± ¡°Come again?¡± Ward frowned; something about the offhand way she¡¯d mentioned the anima gave him a queasy feeling in his gut. Something wasn¡¯t right. ¡°Well, my people can¡¯t interact with mana, which I hope to teach you to find, but we can use anima, which many, many types of people can share with us. See? I help you, and you give me some anima¡ªjust a little¡ªand we both win. I believe that¡¯s called a win-win.¡± ¡°You took some of my anima? What the hell is it?¡± Ward, for some reason, held his left hand to his chest. ¡°You¡¯ll hardly notice it¡¯s gone.¡± She sighed at Ward¡¯s stare and threw her hands up in exasperation. ¡°Fine. Fine, let me back up a little and try to explain. Mana is out here.¡± She spread her arms, gesturing toward everything in sight. ¡°Some people with the right talents and a suitable vessel can find mana and gather it into themselves, using it for magic. People like me, well, we can¡¯t use mana, but we can use anima, which is in here.¡± She stepped closer and gently tapped her manicured red nail against Ward¡¯s sternum. ¡°And you took some of mine to get me out of trouble?¡± ¡°Basically.¡± ¡°But what is it? What does anima mean?¡± ¡°There are many words with anima as their root. But it¡¯s, well, it¡¯s your soul. Forget that for now, Ward. The important thing is that I brought you here, where the mana is rich, and I¡¯m going to teach you so much. I¡¯ve already given you a lot: I healed you and freshened up that old flesh of yours.¡± ¡°Freshened up?¡± Ward held up his right hand, still clutching the polished walnut grip of his snub-nosed Smith & Wesson. He stared at the back of his hand and the wrist sticking out of his jacket. Something was off. He snatched his left hand up in front of his face and spread his fingers wide, slowly turning his wrist. Was he losing it, or were there a lot fewer wrinkles around his knuckles? Was his skin thicker and more vibrant? ¡°Did you, uh, did . . .¡± He couldn¡¯t bring himself to say it, afraid he¡¯d sound hopeful and sad, exposing himself to ridicule. ¡°Make you younger? I¡¯d say I shaved a good ten years off you, old man. Back in your thirties again. Does it feel good? Think how great you¡¯ll feel after you harvest some mana, and we get to work improving that weak flesh of yours.¡± ¡°No way . . .¡± Ward yanked his coat open and jammed the pistol into his shoulder holster, then he shrugged out of his raincoat, letting it fall to the charred ground. He pulled his shirttails out of the top of his trousers, noticing they felt significantly looser and roomier, and started to unbutton his shirt. ¡°What are you doing, Ward?¡± Grace had hopped atop a burned stump and stood on her painted toes, looking down at him with a narrowed eye, wrinkling her nose. ¡°Gonna see if you¡¯re full of shit or not!¡± ¡°By getting naked? Why don¡¯t you just snap a selfie?¡± Ward froze, then slapped himself on the forehead and dropped his half-unbuttoned shirt. He jammed his hand into his pocket¡ªthe one that wasn¡¯t full of extra bullets¡ªand yanked out his phone. He held it before his face, and it clicked and opened, displaying his home screen, though several lines of distorted static repeatedly ran through the image. Had he fallen on it and cracked the panel beneath the glass? The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation. He had four text notifications, but before he touched them, he looked at the top of the screen and saw he had no service, no Wi-Fi¡ªno anything. His battery was at thirty-two percent. Ward touched the text icon, noting the four messages were from his partner, Tony: 10:17 ¨C Huh? A hole in an alley? 10:19 ¨C Are you drunk, man? 10:24 ¨C Ward, my man, you need to let me know if this is a prank. Like, now. 10:32 ¨C Okay, calling the watch sergeant to send you backup. If this is a prank, or you¡¯re drunk or something, I¡¯m gonna forward your text to the entire department. ¡°Jesus, Tony!¡± Ward sighed and shook his head. ¡°He waited fifteen minutes to call for backup.¡± Thinking of the minutes, Ward glanced at the time on his phone and groaned when he saw it said 11:47 PM. ¡°My phone thinks it¡¯s midnight.¡± He glared at the blue sky, then turned back to the phone and touched the camera app. He held the lens in front of his face and couldn¡¯t stop the idiotic grin that exposed his teeth. ¡°You really did it! You really took ten years off.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t like to lie!¡± Grace frowned and crossed her arms over her chest. Ward barely heard her; he was looking at the taut skin around his neck, the absence of age spots, the dark stubble along his jawline, and the lack of gray in his eyebrows and short, thick hair. He grinned wider, looking at his teeth, and was sure they looked a bit whiter than they had that morning. ¡°Is this permanent?¡± ¡°Well . . . You understand how time works, right?¡± She suddenly sounded very concerned. ¡°Huh?¡± ¡°I took ten years off, so, you know, as you continue to age¡ª¡± ¡°Oh, right, right.¡± Ward laughed idiotically and put his phone back in his pocket. ¡°If you listen to me and follow my guidance, there¡¯s a good chance you¡¯ll be even younger looking soon. There¡¯s a good chance you might never have to worry about aging again.¡± ¡°All right, lady, you¡¯re starting to get my attention. I don¡¯t see how I could dream up such a goofy scenario.¡± Ward leaned over, snatched up his jacket, and hung it over his shoulder. He took a good look at her, the tapered cut of her slim-fitting dress slacks, the black blazer, clearly tailored for a perfect fit, and her spotless, starched white shirt, buttoned to the collar. She certainly looked sharp. Would he dress her like that if she were a figment of his imagination? He couldn¡¯t imagine it. She grinned slyly as though she could read his thoughts. ¡°Starting to believe?¡± ¡°Let¡¯s just say my doubts are moving in new directions.¡± In all honesty, Ward didn¡¯t know what to believe. He was a forty-four-year-old man; he¡¯d had plenty of dreams, and this wasn¡¯t like any dream he¡¯d ever had, nothing close. The air was warm but carried hints of odors that seemed new to him, though he couldn¡¯t place how. The ground was crunchy where the ash had solidified, but beneath it was a layer of springy loam, and when Ward bounced his weight up and down, his shoes squeaked as they broke through the crust. He could feel sweat building in his armpits and along his brow. He was aware of his breathing, his heartbeat, and the weight of his coat on his shoulder. In short, everything seemed too real to be a fantasy. ¡°Are you ready to follow me?¡± Grace hopped down from the stump, and Ward sized her up. She wasn¡¯t tiny, but she wasn¡¯t a big woman. Maybe five-five, he figured. She winked at him as his eyes came to rest on her face, and Ward looked away and cleared his throat. ¡°Relax, Ward. I told you. I¡¯m in your head! Hah!¡± She turned and started to saunter away through the ash, passing by a tremendous, blackened fallen tree. Ward figured it had to be a couple hundred feet long, and Grace looked antlike when she walked in its shadow. He got moving, trudging along in her wake, and called, ¡°Where are we going?¡± ¡°East!¡± ¡°Why?¡± ¡°Well, Cinder burns in an east-to-west progression. We¡¯re in a place that burned not too long ago, so if we go east, we¡¯ll get to parts that have recovered more.¡± ¡°It burns?¡± Ward¡¯s eyes drifted around the blackened hellscape. ¡°Slowly. There¡¯s a band of fire that stretches from pole to pole, and it moves around the globe, burning. It takes a long time, though. Centuries.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t . . . That doesn¡¯t sound possible. Sustainable.¡± More doubts sprang to life in Ward¡¯s mind. ¡°You need to stop thinking about things in terms of Earth, Ward. The universe is a big, mysterious place, and when you account for things like mana and anima, which you humans have very little understanding of, things can get pretty weird.¡± She hopped up the side of a hill, hardly disturbing the ashy soil, and Ward followed after her, trying to make sense of her words. He was about to ask more about mana when he noticed he was stepping into one of her slender footprints, and a new thought occurred to him. ¡°I thought you said you were in my head? Not real for other people.¡± She paused at the top of the slope and looked down at him, frowning. ¡°The footprints?¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± he grunted. ¡°Ward. I¡¯m very real for you¡ªyou see me, hear me, feel me, and your brain will fill in things like footprints in ash. If we stand here and chat for a while, then you turn back to look at your progress, you¡¯ll see that only your footprints remain.¡± ¡°Can we?¡± ¡°So eager to test me?¡± She frowned and folded her arms over her chest again but didn¡¯t move. ¡°I know you¡¯re wondering about mana and anima.¡± Ward nodded as he finally got to the top of the slope. When he looked past her, further east, he supposed, he saw a long, gentle slope dotted with slender, burned stumps, but farther, almost as far as he could see, he saw more green. ¡°Yeah, I was. Also, are we almost out of the burned area?¡± ¡°Well, lucky for you, we came in near the edge. We could have been hiking through ash for weeks.¡± She sighed and kicked her slender, pale foot through the ash, digging up a furrow, sending a puff of gray into the air, and scattering loose, dark soil over the top of the outer crust. ¡°Okay, eyes up here.¡± She pointed to her face. ¡°Listen to me for a few minutes, and then we¡¯ll confirm that I¡¯m not corporeal.¡± Ward complied, looking into those dancing flames buried behind her red irises. ¡°So, mana. Obviously, you¡¯re familiar with the idea of a soul; imagine that the universe has a soul. That¡¯s natural mana. Now, I¡¯m not telling you to start attending church again, Ward. Soul is one word, but others consider it more of an essence¡ªa driving force. It¡¯s an elusive, mysterious stuff that some people can interact with more than others. More than that, it¡¯s richer in some areas than others, and no one knows why, not really. Some species in the universe are older; they¡¯ve evolved more and did so in an area rich in mana. Those species have a real leg up on humans like you, Ward.¡± ¡°So, the playing field isn¡¯t level.¡± ¡°Not in the slightest!¡± She grinned and punched him in the shoulder, not hard, but enough to jostle him. ¡°You¡¯re catching on quickly! Don¡¯t worry, though¡ªnot everyone has a helpful little devil like me.¡± ¡°Devil?¡± ¡°Oh, don¡¯t let the word scare you off. Call me an alien, an angel¡ªheck, you could call me a ghost if you want. The point is, I¡¯m in your head and will help you figure things out. There are ways to make you tougher, to open you to mana, and to give you the means to make use of it.¡± ¡°And you¡¯re helping me because . . .¡± ¡°Because I think it will be fun. Also, you gave me some anima, and, Ward, it was so, so, so good! Plus, I¡¯d be stuck on Earth if it weren''t for you. Who knows, if I help you get strong enough, you might make it to the next world or, heck, old man, maybe all the way out of the Vainglory System!¡± Ward frowned, rubbing at his stubble, enjoying the rough texture on his fingertips as he contemplated. There was no way his brain was coming up with all this shit. Something had to be happening outside his mind, and he couldn¡¯t think of any reasonable explanation. Was this lady legit? He looked at the ash near his feet and saw the divot she¡¯d kicked out was gone, the area smooth and untouched. ¡°Yeah, but there¡¯s gotta be more in it for you¡ª¡± ¡°Hush!¡± Grace held a finger to her lips, then slowly turned in a circle. ¡°Oh, dammit! Shit! Time to run, old man!¡± 4. Scavs 4 ¨C Scavs Ward arched an eyebrow at Grace¡¯s sudden outburst. ¡°Huh?¡± ¡°Go! East! Keep moving. Come on, run!¡± She started ahead of him, and Ward, straining to hear what had bothered her, started jogging. He felt surprisingly good, much better than he had the last time he¡¯d exercised. His ankles and knees were pain-free. His lower back didn¡¯t protest. And, despite them having been hiking for quite a few minutes in the steady light of twin suns, he didn¡¯t feel overly taxed. ¡°I feel pretty good.¡± ¡°I know you do! I healed all your old injuries. Come on, Ward! We don¡¯t want those scavs to catch us. Even on Cinder, they probably have some mana control.¡± ¡°Scavs?¡± ¡°Scavengers! Come on, sharpen up, old man!¡± She leaped over a fallen trunk four feet high. Ward didn¡¯t think he could clear it, so he slowed and used a hand to vault it. ¡°What the hell are they scavenging out here?¡± He gestured to the expanse of ashes and burned trees. ¡°There were cities and towns out here that got burned when the fire passed. They¡¯ll dig for the basements and cellars, looking for old treasures.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t the people who fled the flames come back?¡± ¡°Some, but let''s be real, they¡¯d have to circle the globe. Most just move ahead of the flames enough to live in peace for a few decades.¡± She slowed down, sighed heavily, and shrugged her shoulders, turning to look at him with a funny expression. She wore half a smile, and yet her eyes looked at him with sympathy. ¡°Oh damn, I¡¯m sorry, Ward.¡± ¡°What?¡± ¡°Well, I¡¯d hoped I¡¯d have some time to introduce you to Cinder a little slower and maybe let you meet some friendly folk. Looks like it¡¯s out of the frying pan and into the fire for you. Those scavs are running this way, and they¡¯re moving a lot faster than you can. Maybe they won¡¯t kill you. Maybe they¡¯ll just rob you¡ª¡± ¡°Nah, hell with that,¡± Ward growled, yanking his .357 out of his holster. ¡°How many?¡± ¡°Three, but Ward . . .¡± She trailed off as, hooting and yowling, sounding much like a pack of wild dogs, three tall, loping figures crested the top of the slope where Ward and Grace had been chatting. They were each well over six feet tall with long, wiry limbs jutting out of weird apparel that wouldn¡¯t have looked out of place on a Star Wars set. At this distance, Ward couldn¡¯t make them out clearly, but he thought it looked like they had animal snouts and high, pointed ears; they almost looked half dog and half person. They caught sight of him and howled with greater fervor and began loping down the slope, rapidly approaching. Ward barked his old go-to phrase, lifting his gun. ¡°Get on the ground!¡± The scavs carried packs on their backs, satchels over their shoulders, belts, and bandoliers laden with knives and, if he weren¡¯t mistaken, pistols. When he hollered for them to get on the ground, he saw them grab hold of those knives and guns, and Ward didn¡¯t hesitate; he squeezed the trigger. Back in Afghanistan, some of Ward¡¯s buddies in the Marines accused him of having ice in his veins. He never got rattled during an engagement. No, Ward saved that for later. When he¡¯d gotten home from his deployment, he¡¯d spent many nights waking up in cold sweats, images from the war fresh in his mind. Once he¡¯d been hired onto the force, the department had probably shelled out double his salary to the various shrinks that had served his unit over the years. He went in voluntarily and also on the captain¡¯s orders after his many violent encounters with felons. All that said, when his first shot dropped the scav in the lead, sending him careening head over heels through the ash and tumbling down the hill, he didn¡¯t flinch when the others returned fire. Their guns barked loudly, sending clouds of black smoke into the air with each shot, and Ward heard their bullets snap through the air nearby, kicking up clouds of ash and dirt and splintering into a burned-out tree he stood beside. Nonetheless, he held steady. He took aim, and he blasted. The S&W barked in his hand, and the scav on the left, now only fifteen yards away, cried out and grabbed at its throat, dropping its pistol. Ward couldn¡¯t help thinking of the scav as ¡°it.¡± They looked like bipedal dogs wearing clothes, and he couldn¡¯t tell if they were males or females or something else altogether. As the scav tried in vain to hold the blood inside its body, it fell to its rump with a sad, almost pathetic whimper. The other scav, the last one, dropped its gun and stooped low, looking up at Ward in much the way a dog might if you caught it pissing on the rug, a look of guilt and surrender in its eyes. ¡°Please,¡± it begged in a surprisingly feminine, human-like voice. Before Ward could come to grips with that, it struck him that it spoke English. ¡°Get on the ground,¡± he growled, defaulting to old habits again as his mind whirled. To his delight, the scav complied, laying on her chest, snout to the side, hands spread. Ward checked the other two and saw the one he¡¯d first shot was lying in a heap, unmoving against a burned tree. The other, the one he¡¯d shot through the neck, was lying on its side, panting in short quick breaths. Ward had a feeling he or she wasn¡¯t long for this world. ¡°Well! That went better than I thought! I knew I liked how you handled those cultists.¡± Grace stepped out from behind a nearby tree and approached him. ¡°You should just shoot this other one. You don¡¯t want her to find you in the night and slit your throat.¡± ¡°Why the hell can I understand her?¡± ¡°Huh?¡± the scav asked. She was squeezing her eyes shut, but she peeled one open, a big, honey-colored orb wet with moisture, and rolled it in the socket to better look at Ward. ¡°Did you ask me something?¡± ¡°She can understand you because you¡¯re speaking her language. Well, I¡¯m doing it for you. I told you I would help you, didn¡¯t I?¡± ¡°You¡¯re what?¡± Ward was very damn sure he was speaking English. He could feel his mouth moving and hear the words in his ears. ¡°Ward, you gotta get with it¡ª¡± ¡°Sir, my brother, he¡¯s dying!¡± The scav sounded desperate, and Ward had to take a beat to realize what an asshole he was being. The guy might look like he was part dog, and he might have been trying to kill him, but a man shouldn¡¯t be so callous while another person was bleeding out in front of him. ¡°Can you help him?¡± he asked his prisoner. ¡°Yes!¡± ¡°Do it. Don¡¯t try anything funny, or I¡¯ll have to start shooting.¡± ¡°Oh, brother! What¡¯s going on here, Ward?¡± Grace took two quick steps toward him, reached up, and flicked one of her pointy red nails against his earlobe. It felt like a wasp stung him. ¡°Ouch!¡± He slapped a hand to his ear and scowled at her. ¡°What the hell?¡± The female scav who¡¯d scurried over to kneel over her gasping, bleeding brother jerked her head up and narrowed her strange lupine eyes at him. Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author. ¡°Ward! What are you going to do with these scavs? Suppose she saves the hurt one? Now you¡¯ve got two people with vendettas against you loose in the world. Just finish them off!¡± Ward whirled on Grace and growled, ¡°I don¡¯t do that kind of shit!¡± ¡°What? Come on, Ward! I saw you basically assassinate Lafferty and his crew¡ª¡± ¡°That¡¯s different. There were dead bodies around; they had you tied up in a circle¡ª¡± ¡°Not me¡ª¡± ¡°And they came at me with knives!¡± Ward waved off Grace¡¯s objection, and in the process, he let his gaze fall on the scav and saw she was staring at him with wide yellow-brown eyes and an open mouth from which hung a pink tongue. She ran that long tongue over her snout and sniffed. ¡°Are you okay? You¡¯re not talking to me, are you?¡± ¡°Now you¡¯ve done it,¡± Grace sighed. ¡°Pretty soon, everyone on Cinder¡¯s gonna be talking about the raving lunatic in the burn belt.¡± ¡°Can it, Grace.¡± Ward sighed and shook his head, then walked over to the scav. ¡°He gonna make it?¡± ¡°No.¡± She made a faint whimpering sound, and Ward almost reached down to stroke her furry head between the ears. He stepped back, though, reminding himself that this was a person and she¡¯d just been set on killing him. ¡°Look, I¡¯m sorry about your loss, but you folks were aiming to kill me, right?¡± ¡°I suppose.¡± She sniffed and rubbed a hairy arm over her moist, black nostrils. ¡°Well, I¡¯m gonna take one of your packs and all the guns, and then we¡¯re going to walk in opposite directions. Understand?¡± He¡¯d folded his arms over his chest, but he still held the .357, and he tapped it against his elbow, letting the metal clink as a reminder that he was in charge. ¡°The first reasonable thing you¡¯ve said.¡± Grace walked around in a slow circle behind the scavenger, scrutinizing her. ¡°Don¡¯t forget about the knife on her belt.¡± ¡°You can keep your knife, but keep your hands away from it until we¡¯re gone.¡± ¡°We?¡± The scavenger looked left and right, then scrutinized Ward, and, despite her canine appearance, he could read what she was thinking¡ªhe was nuts. ¡°Yeah,¡± he covered, ¡°you and me. You can play with your knife all you want when we''re both gone from here.¡± He looked past her to the crumpled corpse of the first scav he¡¯d shot. ¡°I¡¯ll get his pack, but you need to come with me. I¡¯m not going to turn my back on you. Got it?¡± The scav whimpered as she stood up from her brother¡¯s body, but she complied, and soon, maybe ten minutes later, Ward had a big backpack filled with random odds and ends, three big-barreled, breech-loading pistols, and a cloth sack full of brass cartridges. The bullets were long and wide, almost the size of a 410-shotgun shell, but unlike any caliber Ward was familiar with. Grace paced and muttered the whole time he¡¯d been going through the scavs¡¯ packs and weapons, clearly irritated with him and the mercy he¡¯d shown. When Ward shouldered the heavy canvas pack, he looked to the surviving scavenger and watched as she carried a stone over and set it beside her brother¡¯s furry leg. ¡°You¡¯re gonna build a cairn over him?¡± ¡°Yes. I promise I won¡¯t follow you after I finish.¡± ¡°Oh, come on, Ward!¡± Grace called from further down the slope. ¡°Right. Well, good luck.¡± Ward thought about it for a minute, and then he reached into the sack where he¡¯d stuffed the pistols, took one out, and set it on a nearby stone. ¡°I¡¯ll leave a couple of bullets a bit further down.¡± ¡°Thank you, stranger. I¡¯m Lizzy.¡± ¡°Ward.¡± He nodded to her, then turned and, after taking ten or fifteen steps, put two big brass bullets on a rock. He glanced back to see Lizzy watching him, and then he continued marching toward Grace¡¯s distant, slender, black-clothed form. When he caught up to her, she was sitting on a flat stone beside which a tall, green sapling grew. It had tiny branches, and from them sprouted thousands of little V-shaped leaves. ¡°Take a seat.¡± She pointed to a stone next to her. ¡°We¡¯re not going further?¡± ¡°Sure, we are, but not yet. We¡¯ll wait for your girlfriend to leave, and then we¡¯ll see if you can sense or, if luck is with us, even see mana.¡± ¡°What¡¯s it got to do with her?¡± Grace shifted, folding her legs under her, and then met Ward¡¯s eyes with hers. She stared at him for a long moment. ¡°When someone dies, their anima breaks up and drifts out of their bodies as mana. If you leave a body alone long enough, the mana will disburse into the universe, but there¡¯s a little time when the mana lingers, and that¡¯s when people with the right talent can see it. Some lucky ones can even gather it up into themselves. We¡¯ll see if you¡¯re one of those people.¡± ¡°You think I am?¡± ¡°I have a sneaking suspicion, but I¡¯ve been wrong before.¡± Ward grunted and sat down on the rock she¡¯d pointed to. ¡°What if Lizzy takes it?¡± ¡°The mana? No chance. There wasn¡¯t a trace of talent in those three, which was damn lucky, by the way, Ward. You could have run into far worse!¡± She yawned and stretched her legs, laying back with her fingers entwined behind her head, supporting it. ¡°Now, just relax a while and wait for that little scav to wander off, and we¡¯ll see what¡¯s what.¡± Ward grunted, only partially listening to her. He¡¯d shifted the pack around in front of him and was digging out a strange item he¡¯d seen. When he found it, he held it up¡ªa plate of copper-colored metal about the size of a tablet. In fact, it was the reason he¡¯d grabbed it and stuffed it into the pack; it had reminded him of his iPad. The metallic backing was tarnished with green and blue, but the front was glass, and he thought he could see a sheen of iridescent liquid behind it. ¡°The hell is this thing?¡± ¡°What?¡± Grace opened her eyes and peered over at him. ¡°Oh, probably junk. I¡¯d toss it.¡± Ward ignored her and continued to study the thing. On the front, in the lower left corner, a slight depression in the metal casing caught his eye. Tiny flecks of rust or something like it stained the metal there. Ward flaked the stuff away with his thumbnail, and when he held his nail up to the light, he knew exactly what it was. ¡°Blood,¡± he grunted. ¡°Seriously, Ward, quit wasting your time. Scavs don¡¯t generally carry good equipment.¡± Again, Ward ignored her, but not so much that he didn¡¯t realize she didn¡¯t want him looking at the object in his hands. He pressed his thumb into the indentation¡ªnothing happened. He could hear Grace shifting, moving off the stone, and stepping quietly toward him. His mind fixated on the blood, and, feeling rushed, he picked up one of the knives he¡¯d taken from the scavs, carefully notching a tiny cut into the side of his pinky. Suddenly, Grace was beside him, hissing into his ear, ¡°What are you doing, Ward? Quit wasting time. Are you trying to get infected?¡± ¡°Relax,¡± Ward grunted, then he touched the droplet of blood on his pinky into the little depression on the tablet. Grace hissed, and he could hear the frustration in her tone, but she stomped away just as the weird liquid behind the glass started to shift and form strange patterns. Ward stared, fascinated, as the undeniable lines of letters and numerals began to form, solidifying into a little table:
Bloodline: Basic Human (h)
Accumulated Mana: 2
Mana Sensitivity: Bronze
Mana Pathways: Tin
Vessel Capacity: Tin
Vessel Durability: h + 0
Vessel Strength: h + 0
Vessel Speed: h + 0
Longevity Remaining: ~40%
Anima: NIL
¡°Um, Grace? What the hell is all this?¡± 5. Mana 5 ¨C Mana Grace, who¡¯d wandered a few feet away and was busily poking at a tuft of green grass that had managed to take root in the thinning ash layer, turned toward him with an arched eyebrow. ¡°All what?¡± Ward had seen a witness or suspect play dumb before, and he wasn¡¯t buying it. ¡°Quit playing games, all right? Explain this thing to me.¡± He held up the metal and glass tablet. ¡°It¡¯s just junk, Ward. I told you those scavs won¡¯t have good tech. It¡¯s called, I believe, a hemograph or vitalscope. It uses glyphs¡ªwritten words of power¡ªto force the ambient mana to perform an analysis of your blood.¡± She sighed and stood, stomping toward him. ¡°Thing is, Ward, you got this off a dead scav, and I doubt it¡¯s a very good one. I doubt it''s calibrated to read a person like you, a person from Earth, properly.¡± She peered over his shoulder at the chart and clicked her tongue as she perused the numbers. ¡°It identified me as human, which seems to contradict what you just said¡ª¡± ¡°Identifying a bloodline is different from understanding it! These are very basic details. I¡¯ve read texts about hemographs that could tell much more about a person.¡± She paused and made a soft humming sound. ¡°Well, I like that it thinks you have ¡®bronze¡¯ mana sensitivity.¡± ¡°Is that good?¡± ¡°I¡¯ve no idea, but it sounds better than ¡®tin,¡¯ doesn¡¯t it?¡± Ward frowned and tapped his finger on the display. To his dismay, the action scattered the strange liquid, erasing the table. ¡°I, uh, couldn¡¯t help noting the ¡®NIL¡¯ where my anima should have been.¡± Grace stood and arched her back, looking away from him as she stretched. After a moment, she said, ¡°Don¡¯t worry about that. I¡¯m sure a more sophisticated device will be able to read your anima more accurately.¡± Ward grunted, shaking his head, his suspicions further piqued by Grace¡¯s nonchalance. Still, he put the device in his pack and decided to put off worrying until he¡¯d met more people and gathered more information. He was coming to terms with his new reality. Everything was too real, too visceral to be a fever dream, at least in his experience. He¡¯d had normal dreams, he¡¯d tripped on surgical meds, he¡¯d been knocked out, and he¡¯d even had heat stroke¡ªnothing ever felt like this. He leaned back, bunched his raincoat up for a pillow, closed his eyes, and waited for time to pass. Sometime later, after Grace had determined they¡¯d waited long enough, she roused him, and they began marching back toward the scene of Ward¡¯s encounter with the scavs. He tugged the lapels of his raincoat tight, stuffed his hands in his pockets, and shuffled after her toward the setting sun. Things had cooled down a lot as the suns dipped toward the distant horizon. He¡¯d dozed off a bit while they waited, which had gone a long way toward helping to convince him he wasn¡¯t suffering from a delusion. He¡¯d had wild dreams, far more vivid than any he could recently remember, and it didn¡¯t seem like something that would happen if he were already dreaming this whole scenario up. He couldn¡¯t recall his dreams clearly, but he had the impression he¡¯d been flying or maybe floating on a big blue river. He remembered lots of laughter and camaraderie and just feeling damn good. When he''d rolled off his rock and shaken himself awake, Grace had been smiling at him, and he wondered if somehow she¡¯d experienced his dream, too. She paused and turned, waiting for him to catch up, and he saw that her pale hair was tinted blue. Ward turned to look at the sky and caught his breath. ¡°Jesus.¡± ¡°It¡¯s something, isn¡¯t it?¡± He didn¡¯t just see a moon in the sky; he saw several. One was close and enormous, the source of the blue light, but further toward the horizon was a smaller, bright yellow moon, and in between them, clearly more distant thanks to the perspective of looking past the blue moon, was a bright, green-blue marble. Still further, Ward was sure he saw other moons or maybe distant planets. They were colorful and too large to be stars. At least, he thought so. ¡°Three moons?¡± ¡°Two and some of the other Vainglory worlds. The blue and green one is Oceana, the fourth.¡± ¡°The fourth?¡± ¡°Vainglory world! Remember they¡¯re ranked in difficulty?¡± ¡°Right.¡± Ward shook his head. ¡°What does that mean, again?¡± ¡°There are challenges that an ancient culture built on these worlds. They involve mana and have valuable prizes. That¡¯s why I brought us here. I figured you could prove yourself, and while you¡¯re at it, you could improve yourself!¡± She grinned, turned on her heel, and resumed her walk toward the distant sunset. Only a sliver of colorful orange and red streaks touched the sky on the horizon by the time they stopped in front of a high, sturdy pile of stones shaped like it was meant to cover a body. The scavenger had toiled long and hard to cover up her brother¡¯s corpse. ¡°Almost dark,¡± he grunted. She turned to frown at him. ¡°Wasn¡¯t there any sort of light in that pack?¡± ¡°Yeah, I think so.¡± Ward shrugged out of the stained, brown canvas backpack and unfastened the buckle at the top. He¡¯d dumped the two packs of the dead scavengers and tried to consolidate the things he wanted, but most of it was junk in his estimation. Still, he found a little copper rectangle with a single glass panel, and behind the glass, he could see a bulb. It was weirdly shaped, almost like it had been blown by hand¡ªa custom creation. On the back was a little copper crank. ¡°Hmm,¡± he muttered as he began to turn it. The mechanism inside the lamp whirred and clicked, and he could feel it getting tighter and tighter as he cranked. When it got to the point where he feared he might break the little lever, he let go. The bulb began to tick and flicker, rapidly brightening, and soon, a warm, yellow glow shone from the glass window. Grace nodded. ¡°It¡¯s good that you have a light, but for what we¡¯re about to do, you might have an easier time in the dark. Let¡¯s start with that poor bugger you shot first, the one who isn¡¯t buried.¡± ¡°All right.¡± Ward led the way around the cairn and then up the slight slope to the crumpled form of the dead scavenger. ¡°What¡¯s the deal with this anyway? Who has a brass, cranking flashlight?¡± Ward held up the little lantern. ¡°Vainglory is a crossroads system. Many portals and mana pathways lead through it, and you¡¯ll find all sorts of tech and strange people here.¡± She squinted at his lantern. ¡°Can you turn the light off, or does it have to wind down?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± Ward lifted the lamp and scrutinized the back side. Sure enough, beneath the crank was a little brass switch. When he flicked it to the side, the gears inside the lamp stopped ticking, and the bulb faded to a faint orange glow and then winked out. ¡°Good! Now sit down here beside the corpse, face it.¡± ¡°All right.¡± Ward sat down on the hard-packed ash and crossed his legs before himself. He was about a foot away from the dead scavenger, and some smells were beginning to emanate from the body. He wrinkled his nose and silently hoped they¡¯d soon be gone from the scene. Grace flopped down beside him and began to take exaggerated breaths in through her nose and out through her mouth. When Ward looked sidelong at her, marveling at how bright the blue from the moon had become, she took another deep breath and pointed at him. ¡°You too!¡± She made him take five deep breaths, in and out. ¡°You¡¯re trying to ground yourself, to center yourself. Push troublesome thoughts from your mind and be in the moment. Feel the air, see the moonlight, taste the copper and decay in your breaths.¡± Her casual acceptance of the dead body smells struck Ward as strange but also comforting; the body was part of his reality now. ¡°Watch the scav¡¯s body, Ward; really see it.¡± She grew quiet after that, and Ward did what she asked; he watched the body. Time passed, and Ward tried to stay in the moment, to be present for the sights and smells and feelings around him, but his mind began to wander, and, for some damn reason, he started to think about his ex-wife. She¡¯d left him nearly nine years ago in a clich¨¦ of all clich¨¦s, dumping him to start a relationship with an old high school flame she¡¯d reconnected with through some online class reunion site. Ward wouldn¡¯t admit it to anyone, not even his sister, but it had pretty much gutted him. ¡°You¡¯re letting your mind wander.¡± Grace sighed, hopping up. ¡°You don¡¯t see anything?¡± ¡°Nothing. Just a pile of shadowy lumps.¡± ¡°Oh well! It was probably too much to be optimistic. I¡¯d hoped you have some affinity for mana. It would have made things a heck-ton easier.¡± ¡°Heck-ton?¡± ¡°I¡¯m trying it out. You don¡¯t like it?¡± Grace wrinkled her nose. ¡°It¡¯s . . . no, not really. What do we do if I can¡¯t see mana?¡± ¡°We¡¯ll have to try to solve some of the easier challenges to get you some infusions. Hopefully, that will wake something up.¡± She turned and started to walk back to the east, and Ward followed. ¡°And if it doesn¡¯t? Wake something up?¡± ¡°Well, I¡¯ll probably be hunting for a new host.¡± She turned to grin, but Ward wasn¡¯t listening. As soon as he¡¯d turned to follow her, he¡¯d seen, over her shoulder, the cairn where Lizzy¡¯s brother had been buried. Drifting out between the stones, he saw tiny motes of flickering, glowing, pale blue dust. ¡°Is that it?¡± ¡°What?¡± Grace stared at Ward briefly, followed his gaze, and then looked back at him. He frowned. ¡°You don¡¯t see it?¡± ¡°No! Describe it!¡± She rushed toward him and grabbed his arm, looking into his eyes as though she could see what he was seeing by peering into their depths. ¡°Like, I don¡¯t know, tiny floating particles of blue dust. It¡¯s seeping out of the gaps in the stones¡ª¡± Grace squeezed and jerked on his arm in excitement as she interrupted him, ¡°Mana!¡± She pulled his arm, turning him, and pointed at the other corpse up the slope. ¡°Nothing there?¡± ¡°Nothing.¡± Ward could barely make out the darker shadow of the body slumped against the charred ground. ¡°He must have traded all his anima or nearly so.¡± ¡°Huh?¡± If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. ¡°I¡¯ll explain later, but come here, let¡¯s see if you can do anything with what you can see.¡± Again, she tugged his arm, pulling him close to the cairn Lizzy had built. ¡°If you are ¡®in me,¡¯ why can¡¯t you see what I see?¡± Ward held his hand out over the stones, passing it through the fine, blue dust. ¡°Because of my nature, I can interact with anima, but not mana. There are all kinds of people in the universe, Ward.¡± She hopped atop the cairn, and Ward frowned. ¡°You shouldn¡¯t sit up there.¡± ¡°Hmm?¡± He pulled his hand out of the mana cloud, not having felt anything. ¡°It¡¯s disrespectful.¡± ¡°To . . .¡± She frowned and looked down. ¡°To him? The scav? He doesn¡¯t care.¡± ¡°How do you know?¡± ¡°Well, because he¡¯s dead.¡± ¡°To Lizzy, then. To me.¡± ¡°Goodness! Sensitive!¡± She hopped down to stand beside him again. ¡°I¡¯m in a good mood, though, so I¡¯ll be easy. You don¡¯t know how good it is that you can see the mana. And you¡¯re not even concentrating! My last host had to meditate in a perfectly calm space to catch a few glimpses. Your gift is pretty rare among humans. I knew I felt something about you . . .¡± She trailed off, looking from Ward¡¯s eyes to the cairn and back again. Her brow creased, and he couldn¡¯t tell if she was trying to guess what he was thinking or was still trying to catch a second-hand glimpse of the strange blue dust. ¡°Did you feel anything when you put your hand in it?¡± ¡°No.¡± ¡°Not surprising. Manipulating mana is much harder than seeing it, but you can¡¯t do the one without the other.¡± Ward frowned and tried to make sense of her words. ¡°You mean I couldn¡¯t work with it if I couldn¡¯t see it?¡± ¡°Exactly.¡± ¡°And some people can¡¯t see it?¡± ¡°Many people.¡± ¡°And why couldn¡¯t I see it on Earth?¡± ¡°Because it¡¯s so thin, well, and it¡¯s quite possible I woke something up in you when I bound myself to you.¡± She shook her head. ¡°Let¡¯s not get bogged down in the details. Come on, put your hand back into it.¡± Ward frowned but didn¡¯t object. He reached his hand, palm down, fingers splayed wide, into the nearest little cloud of blue, sparkling dust and held it there. ¡°Now what?¡± ¡°Now close your eyes and try to tune out everything. Everything but your hand. Really focus on it, Ward. See if you can detect anything unusual¡ªtingles, itching, heat, cold; everyone describes it differently.¡± Ward tried to follow her instructions. He closed his eyes, steadied his breathing, and focused his attention on his hand. He stood there for a while, breathing slowly and trying to calm his mind. The world was tranquil where they stood, with only an occasional insect chirp or a faint rustle of ash in the breeze to disturb him, so he couldn¡¯t complain about distractions, at least not physical ones. The problem was that his mind kept wandering, a faint, nagging worry that he was completely nuts, living in a delusion, taking the lion¡¯s share of his focus. When he shook that off and pushed it down, another question clawed its way into his conscious thoughts: was he dead? Ward had to consider the idea. Was he on a crazy trip triggered by a chemical dump in his brain as it died? Ward wasn¡¯t a religious man, but his mom had made him go to church as a kid, and he had to wonder if he was in some kind of purgatory or hell. It sure didn¡¯t feel like heaven. In a way, he found the idea comforting; at least he still existed. ¡°I think, therefore, I am,¡± he muttered with a soft chuckle. ¡°Ward! You won¡¯t get it if you don¡¯t focus!¡± He felt Grace snake her fingers up to his biceps, and he had a second to wonder what she was doing before she gave him a vicious pinch. He snapped his eyes open and jerked his arm out of her grasp. ¡°Ouch! Dammit!¡± ¡°You need to stop with the bologna about being dead.¡± In the dim, blue light of the moon, her eyes flared brightly, and Ward could clearly see the flames dancing behind her irises. ¡°Why are there flames in your eyes?¡± ¡°No, no, Ward! We¡¯re not going to start off on another tangent right now. Come on, focus, put your hand back in the mana, and really try to close down all your other thoughts. Remember when I showed you how to ground yourself earlier? Focus on being here, on experiencing the present, and just shut out those annoying worries; dismiss them¡ªthey¡¯ll get you nowhere.¡± Ward rubbed at his arm for a second, frowning, but then he sighed, took a deep, cleansing breath, and put his hand back into the blue cloud. This time, he didn¡¯t close his eyes. He found it easier to focus on the mana and close out his other thoughts if he could watch it. At first glance, it was like a cloud of dust, but when he studied the motes and how they danced around and interacted with his hand, Ward began to see that there was nothing really dust-like about them. Each little mote moved independently, and it wasn¡¯t on any sort of breeze. Sometimes, when they touched his hand, they¡¯d linger for a heartbeat and then start to move again. Sometimes, they slid along his skin, navigating around the tiny hairs on the back of his knuckles. Sometimes, they bounced right off, zipping up into the greater cloud of motes. At first, he¡¯d thought they sparkled, but he realized that wasn¡¯t true; the effect was created by the different shades of motes dancing around each other. Some were bright, pale blue, and some were darker. The darker ones seemed to move more slowly, and as Ward watched one of them, he saw it wink out of existence. He caught his breath as understanding came to him. The motes of mana started out bright and pale, full of energy, and, as they aged or maybe seeped through some invisible membrane of the universe, they faded, slowed, and then were gone. Ward let his hand drift a little, and the motes danced or slid or bounced against his flesh, and, for the first time, he thought he could feel them. The faintest tickle of coolness that might have been a breeze or, if he closed his eyes and imagined it, a person gently blowing on his hand. ¡°You felt it, didn¡¯t you?¡± Grace¡¯s voice was hushed but quick with excitement. ¡°Shh.¡± Ward closed his eyes, trying to focus on that feeling, that tickle along the back of his hand. The more he became aware of it, the more he noticed it, and the stronger the sensation became. It went from a faint, prickling, breezy sensation to a tingle that danced over his knuckles and into his palm. He snapped his eyes open and watched as first a few, then a dozen or more of the tiny, dust-like motes seemed to sink into his hand. Tingles of sensation ran through his skin, over his hand, up his arm, and into his chest. It was cool and electric at once, like the shiver of pleasure you might feel as a lover whispers in your ear, only multiplied tenfold. Again, he caught his breath, too stunned and excited to react, too afraid he¡¯d break the spell. Almost as soon as it started, though, it stopped; the motes no longer sank into him, and the sensation faded. He tried moving his hand in the cloud, but they almost seemed repulsed by him, pushed away like his hand was a magnet with the wrong polarity. He was still messing around, trying to see what had changed, when Grace grabbed him by both biceps and pushed him away from the cairn. She was staring intently at him, her fiery red eyes locked on his. Ward took a step back, but she pursued him, still staring. After a moment, a slow grin spread on her lips, revealing perfect, white teeth. ¡°You did it! I can see a glow! Faint, very faint, but it¡¯s there!¡± ¡°A glow?¡± ¡°In your eyes. A faint pale, white glow. The barest minimum, but you did it!¡± She lifted her head and howled a literal, wolf-like, high-pitched howl. ¡°Jesus, you trying to bring the whole neighborhood running?¡± ¡°Only you can hear me, silly.¡± She danced on her tiptoes for a moment, gesticulating with her arms and knees¡ªsome routine the kids were probably doing these days. Then she snapped her fingers and pirouetted, still wearing that huge, silly grin. ¡°This is great news, Ward!¡± ¡°So my eyes are glowing? What does that mean?¡± ¡°Hah! Glowing. Don¡¯t get ahead of yourself. They have a very faint shine, the palest white.¡± ¡°And?¡± ¡°And, I bet that¡¯s all your body can hold, sad vessel that it is. Still, it¡¯s a start, and it means that you have potential.¡± ¡°Right. Other species can do better, huh?¡± ¡°Other species, other individuals. We can get around your limitations. There are ways to infuse your body with mana, which often triggers evolutions. We can also try to find some artifacts to enhance you. Oh, Ward! If we can keep you alive long enough, we¡¯re going to have such fun!¡± She skipped away from the grave toward the east. ¡°Come on! Let¡¯s get closer to the edge of the ash. Then you can have a rest.¡± Ward glanced at the grave, at the thick blue mana dust dancing in little clouds around it. He wondered what it was, really. It had come out of Lizzy¡¯s brother. Was it part of him? He let his eye wander up the hill to the shadowy lump of the other scav¡¯s body. Why hadn¡¯t he had any? What had Grace said? He traded his anima? Ward didn¡¯t like the sound of that. Hadn¡¯t she tricked him out of a piece of his anima? He shook his head, trying to wrap his mind around things. Was a soul what he thought it was? Did it have anything to do with life after death, or was it something else, some ¡°essence?¡± Hadn¡¯t she said anima becomes mana when people die? So, did that have something to do with moving on? Going to heaven or hell or whatever? What would that mean for a guy like that scav with no anima when he died? ¡°Coming?¡± she called. ¡°Gimme a minute,¡± he grunted, dropping to a knee and shrugging the pack off his back. He pulled the ¡°hemograph¡± out of the top pouch, and while Grace groaned and turned to trudge back toward him, he sucked on the tiny cut he¡¯d given himself earlier. It took a minute, but his saliva loosened the scab, and soon he tasted coppery blood. Ward pressed the little cut against the sensor on the front of the device and watched breathlessly as the iridescent liquid shifted and slowly formed into writing:
Bloodline: Basic Human (h)
Accumulated Mana: 5
Mana Well: Tin + 1.1
Mana Sensitivity: Bronze
Mana Pathways: Tin
Vessel Capacity: Tin
Vessel Durability: h + 0
Vessel Strength: h + 0
Vessel Speed: h + 0
Longevity Remaining: ~40%
Anima: NIL
Ward stared at the chart momentarily, trying to remember what it had said the last time he¡¯d viewed it. He was fairly sure a new line had been added¡ªthe ¡°mana well.¡± More than that, he was sure he¡¯d only had ¡°2¡± next to ¡°Accumulated Mana¡± before. ¡°Grace,¡± he called. ¡°We should talk about these numbers.¡± ¡°When we camp! Follow me!¡± She barely raised her voice, so Ward had to strain to hear her, and she kept moving. Ward sighed, stuffed the hemograph back into his pack, and started after her, trudging down the slope. He easily found his footing in the bright blue light of the primary moon. He¡¯d learned a lot, he supposed, but he had a million more questions, and he wished he could trust Grace to answer them. He wasn¡¯t sure she¡¯d lie to him, but she certainly had a way of omitting details. ¡°Maybe I¡¯ll meet someone I can talk to soon.¡± ¡°Careful what you wish for,¡± Grace said, suddenly much closer than he¡¯d thought. ¡°Huh?¡± ¡°This might only be Cinder, but there are plenty of dangerous people in this world. Approach anyone with caution, especially if I tell you to run.¡± ¡°Because I can trust you?¡± ¡°Because you can trust that I want my host to survive.¡± She winked at him and turned to skip ahead again. ¡°Now come on! We¡¯ll find a spot for you to sleep. I bet you¡¯re tired.¡± Ward nodded and picked up his pace. ¡°Yeah. Yeah, I¡¯m pretty damn tired.¡± 6. Stargazing 6 ¨C Stargazing Ward looked around the little clearing, a space of soft, new grass surrounded by tall, slender saplings, and nodded. ¡°Yeah, this should do.¡± ¡°Get yourself a good night¡¯s sleep, and we¡¯ll keep hiking tomorrow.¡± Seemingly following her own advice, Grace delicately settled down on the grassy loam and curled up on her side, eyes closed. ¡°Hey!¡± Ward shrugged out of the sweaty straps and set the heavy backpack down by his feet. ¡°Don¡¯t go to sleep yet; you owe me some more answers.¡± ¡°Oh, brother.¡± Grace yawned, stretching in a manner reminiscent of a cat. She opened her eyes to bare slits, revealing smoldering flames, as she peered through the shadows at Ward. ¡°Can¡¯t it wait for morning? I¡¯ll talk all you want while we hike.¡± ¡°Nah.¡± Ward unfastened the pack and pulled out the heavy, ash-stained woolen blanket he¡¯d stuffed near the bottom. It was clearly something the dead scav had used as a sleeping mat. As he shook it out, he continued, ¡°You keep saying that, but you¡¯re always hiking ahead, or something comes up, and my questions never get fully answered. We¡¯re gonna talk a bit before I sleep.¡± ¡°Oh! The assertive Ward has made an appearance.¡± Grace sat up and smiled. ¡°Okay, I¡¯ll indulge you. What¡¯s on your mind?¡± Ward spread the thick blanket on the grass and sat atop it. ¡°Let¡¯s start with this mana BS. I guess I passed your tests, but what¡¯s the point? You said my eyes are glowing.¡± He held up his hand. ¡°Excuse me, shining. What does that mean?¡± ¡°It means you managed to absorb some natural mana. Congratulations, you¡¯re a wizard, Ward.¡± ¡°Huh?¡± Grace laughed and shook her head. ¡°Not really. Well, people who can use mana have gone by all sorts of names¡ªwitch, wizard, warlock, magician, magi, sorcerer. Around here, they might go by a different name. I don¡¯t know. Anyway, you get the idea, right? You don¡¯t have enough to do much, and I think you¡¯d kill yourself trying to use the words, but your body will probably make use of the bit you managed to absorb. You might be a little faster or stronger. Maybe you¡¯ll heal better or notice things you couldn¡¯t before. Everyone¡¯s different.¡± ¡°Is that what that line on the, uh, hemograph was about? The ¡®accumulated mana¡¯ line? It said ¡®h plus two percent¡¯ before, and now it says ¡®h plus five percent.¡¯ Yeah, I think . . .¡± Ward lifted out the tablet, but the screen had gone blank again. ¡°The ¡®h¡¯ likely represents an ¡®average¡¯ human amount. But, Ward, who knows how they got that value. The percentage numbers, I guess, represent how much mana you¡¯ve gathered into your body. Two percent was from your life on Earth and your short time here, where the ambient mana is much richer. When you absorbed that mana from the dead scav, I suppose that added to that number, but it should also have gone into a sort of mana battery that you can¡ª¡± ¡°Mana well!¡± ¡°Ah, it displayed that?¡± ¡°Yeah, it said it was ¡®tin plus one-point-one.¡¯¡± ¡°You have to understand, Ward, the only vitalscope I ever saw was on Earth, and it didn¡¯t function. They require ambient mana for the glyphs to operate, and Earth didn¡¯t have enough. Whoever made this one used a standard for measurement that I¡¯m unfamiliar with. I think tin is low only because you have another stat that says ¡®bronze,¡¯ right?¡± ¡°Yeah, my, uh, ¡®mana sensitivity.¡¯ So you think the ¡®tin plus one-point-one¡¯ is indicating¡ª¡± ¡°That you¡¯re moving beyond ¡®tin¡¯ to whatever comes next. Maybe it¡¯s bronze, or there are stages between tin and bronze. Let¡¯s focus on your accumulated mana stat, however. I think that ¡®h plus a percentage¡¯ value means that you¡¯re building up mana in your body that will be absorbed and used to improve your vessel. All those ¡®vessel¡¯ stats can slowly be improved by continuing to absorb mana. If you rely on natural absorption of ambient mana, you¡¯ll be an old man before your body evolves enough to make a difference. If you keep doing what we did tonight at that scav¡¯s grave . . . Well, you might really start to become something special.¡± ¡°And you think this thing¡¯s wrong about the, uh, nonexistence of my anima?¡± ¡°Like I said, Ward¡ª¡± Grace yawned, turning away from him. ¡°I¡¯m not an expert on those things, but I doubt it¡¯s very accurate. I¡¯m sure there are better ones to be had in this system.¡± Ward frowned but put the hemograph away. Instead, he turned his attention back to what Grace was saying earlier. ¡°You said I¡¯d kill myself trying to use the ¡®words.¡¯ What did you mean by ¡®words?¡¯¡± ¡°The words of power. It¡¯s like a language people have figured out that manipulates the mana inside them and gets it to do things. However, you must have a strong vessel¡ªer, body¡ªto do much of that. It creates a lot of stress and strain. I doubt your tongue could even shape the right sounds.¡± ¡°So . . .¡± ¡°So, we need to find some workarounds. As I told you earlier, you need to get some infusions and hope your body responds well. There are other routes we can take, too. I¡¯ve heard stories of people replacing body parts with artifacts infused with mana and carved with the words.¡± ¡°Stories?¡± ¡°Well, I know it¡¯s hard to fathom, but I¡¯m not as old and wise as I seem. For my kind, I¡¯m pretty young; I haven¡¯t seen much beyond Earth, but I¡¯ve read a lot, and my elders filled me with tales¡ª¡± ¡°Your elders?¡± ¡°Come on, Ward. Keep up! Others of my kind? Older than me? That¡¯s the definition of an elder, right?¡± ¡°Jesus, are you always this acerbic?¡± ¡°Acerbic! What a doozy! No, not always. I was feeling positively sweet after I saw you pull that mana into yourself earlier.¡± She leaned closer and smiled¡ªan overtly seductive leer that shifted toward demure as she looked up at him through her lashes. ¡°Why? You want me to be sweeter?¡± ¡°Not a chance.¡± Ward snorted and lay back, away from her, leaning on one elbow as he grinned. ¡°Think I want a girlfriend who can read my thoughts? Sounds like a nightmare.¡± ¡°Who said anything about a girlfriend, killer?¡± She leaned forward as though to crawl toward him, and Ward held up a foot threateningly. ¡°Uh-uh. Back off, lady.¡± Some long strands of white-blond hair had fallen in front of her eyes, and she blew them aside with a huff, then reclined in the grass on her side, mimicking his posture, facing him from a few feet away. ¡°Fine. Doubt I¡¯d enjoy it, anyway. You know I can¡¯t really read your mind, right? I just notice your loudest, most intrusive thoughts, but only if I¡¯m paying attention. Like right now, you¡¯re wondering, really loudly, if you shouldn¡¯t have rejected me!¡± She grinned, her white teeth reflecting the moonlight, and Ward snorted. ¡°Okay, so what¡¯s the deal with that scav with no mana? You said he traded it away?¡± ¡°He gave up bits of his anima here and there, or all of it at once, I¡¯d guess. If you don¡¯t have any anima, you lose your ability to accumulate natural mana.¡± ¡°When you say accumulate, you don¡¯t mean what I did, right?¡± The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. ¡°Right. You were gathering it. Most living things accumulate mana naturally, gathering it very slowly over the course of their lifetime to shore up their vessel and improve their anima. If a person never trades it away, their anima does something to send their ¡®soul¡¯ elsewhere when they die. I don¡¯t know where, so don¡¯t bother asking. Choose your preferred religion, I guess. Anyway, that expenditure of anima rips a hole in the veil of the universe, allowing their soul to escape. The spent anima drifts out of their bodies as mana.¡± ¡°Like with Lizzy¡¯s brother.¡± ¡°If you say so.¡± ¡°So, someone like you must have taken that other one¡¯s anima?¡± ¡°Someone like me? I doubt it. There are many, many strange beings in the universe, Ward.¡± She frowned and plucked a blade of grass, holding it up before her orange-lit eye. ¡°You have to be careful now that you¡¯re away from Earth, in a place where mana flows freely. There are people and entities in this part of the universe who could really mess you up, my friend. Not just in this life, but the next.¡± ¡°But you don¡¯t know exactly what you mean by ¡®the next,¡¯ huh?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t. There are mysteries aplenty left, even for me.¡± ¡°So, did you screw me over? Am I damaged goods now that you took some of my anima?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t think so. I just took a little. Besides, if you listen to me and improve enough, you can replace it.¡± ¡°How?¡± ¡°Well, I¡¯m not sure, but I know there are ways. When I was small and still in my nest¡ªer, my home¡ªI learned that some powerful individuals who carried one of my kind were able to provide a steady supply of anima, for which they received regular boons. The host and the . . . being like me reached a kind of symbiosis. That wouldn¡¯t happen if anima weren¡¯t replenishable, right?¡± ¡°I hope not.¡± Ward shifted, leaning back so he could look up at the wild starscape, amazed by the clarity of the giant moon¡¯s surface. He was pretty sure he could see the edges of craters. ¡°Anyway, I guess I¡¯d be dead meat if you hadn¡¯t stepped in, so I can¡¯t find it in me to be too pissed about it. By the way, back when you first described yourself to me, wasn¡¯t it odd that your first choice was ¡®devil.¡¯¡± ¡°Well, I¡¯m sorry, but that¡¯s what a lot of species call us! I¡¯m not like your biblical devil, though, Ward. I promise.¡± ¡°Hah, sounds like something the Devil would say.¡± ¡°I¡¯m a devil, Ward! Not like that!¡± she growled. ¡°Well, let¡¯s see.¡± Ward began ticking things off on his fingers. ¡°You already told me you ¡®don¡¯t feel sympathy,¡¯ you struck a bargain for some of my ¡®soul,¡¯ you tried to get me to murder Lizzy, and you¡¯ve admitted that your people are called ¡®devils¡¯ by many species. Yeah, I¡¯m gonna have to keep my guard up for now, Grace.¡± He chuckled and rolled onto his side, resting his head on his arm. ¡°Oh! And you¡¯re currently possessing me, and you just tried to seduce me.¡± Grace huffed and flopped onto her back, arms folded on her chest. Ward grinned, rather enjoying needling the bossy, strange woman. Despite everything, he felt pretty good, especially physically. If he were honest, he felt better than he could remember feeling since he was a kid. Not a single muscle ached, his head was clear, and, for the first time in a while, he didn¡¯t have any acid reflux while trying to fall asleep. More than that, the air was cool and refreshing, and he was exceedingly comfortable as he lay there in his raincoat on the woolen blanket. He mimicked Grace and shifted to lay flat his back, continuing to soak in the brilliant expanse of moons, planets, and stars. He¡¯d never seen anything like it, that was for sure. Not even when he was a kid, and he¡¯d been out camping. The Milky Way was something else, but this view, with the moons and nearby planets, couldn¡¯t be topped. He watched the blue-green orb of the planet Grace had called Oceana, wondering how far away it was and, if she weren¡¯t lying, how many people were walking around on it right now. As he thought about the people, Ward asked, ¡°Grace?¡± ¡°What?¡± He could tell she wanted to snap at him, but her tone didn¡¯t sound all that irritated. ¡°What was the deal with those scavs? Lizzy? Is that what the people on this planet look like?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know. I¡¯m operating on stories and texts I¡¯ve read. I don¡¯t think so, but it¡¯s possible. It doesn¡¯t matter, anyway, because people from all kinds of worlds will be here. At least, that¡¯s what I¡¯m betting.¡± ¡°Did you ever go anywhere other than Earth?¡± ¡°Only my home.¡± She sighed, and her words were soft and quiet as she continued. ¡°I was pretty young when I got my first contract. An Englishman named Hamlin managed to muster up the mana required to make contact. He wanted to make a bargain with one of my kind and offered up a piece of his anima. Of course, I never saw any of it. My . . . uncle, I guess, is the best way to describe him¡ªhe took the anima and made me fulfill the bargain. I didn¡¯t want to go ¡®cause I knew I¡¯d be stuck on Earth for at least as long Hamlin lived there. Back then, I didn¡¯t know how to open portals, and even if I did, Hamlin gave up most of his anima in the bargain. Anyway, I was chosen, and I couldn¡¯t say no¡ªdidn¡¯t have the clout, so to speak.¡± ¡°That sounds like a raw deal.¡± ¡°It was, but I¡¯m stronger now. I¡¯ve learned a lot. Since then, I¡¯ve had five hosts, not including you, and some of them gained access to very interesting texts. I took my due in anima from most of them, though never as much as Hamlin gave up to my . . . uncle.¡± ¡°Your hosts all died?¡± ¡°Yes, though I¡¯ll have you know it wasn¡¯t because of my failings. Hamlin died in a duel, Verity of heart failure, Thurstan, Royce, and Philippe all died in wars, and, well, you know what happened to Christina.¡± ¡°Christina? That¡¯s the woman Lafferty had tied up? She didn¡¯t die, right?¡± ¡°No, she¡¯s alive, though probably furious to find me gone.¡± ¡°Does it hurt?¡± ¡°What?¡± She finally turned to face him again, her bright eyes shining in the darkness. ¡°Losing a host. I know you told me you don¡¯t feel sympathy for¡ª¡± ¡°I should never have said that! You¡¯ll forever hold it over my head, won¡¯t you?¡± Again, she sighed heavily. ¡°I never liked Hamlin. He was a vile man who did vile things, and I was forced into my contract with him. I celebrated when he died.¡± She grew quiet for a moment, but her eyes still faced him, still smoldered in the shadows where she lay on the grass. ¡°I was bodiless for a long time after he died. Few people on Earth know how to reach out to form contracts with those like me. Fewer now than ever despite the massive increase in population. Anyway, some tried, but I rejected them. I didn¡¯t want to ride another monster like Hamlin. Then Verity came along, and, well, she was an altogether different type of person. I mourned her death, Ward.¡± ¡°What¡ª¡± ¡°I don¡¯t want to talk about my hosts anymore. Not tonight.¡± ¡°Fair enough.¡± Ward was about to broach a new subject when he saw, on the distant horizon, a slow, smoldering ember lift from the planet¡¯s surface and streak upward, almost like it was flying straight toward the moon. He watched it, breathless for a long moment, then said, ¡°Is that a goddamn spaceship?¡± Grace rolled to her other side so she could see what he was talking about, and then he heard her quiet reply, ¡°A living ship. See the way the flames are tinted magenta? The gas they expel from their bladders burns that color.¡± ¡°Living ship?¡± ¡°I¡¯ve heard about them. They use mana to bridge interstellar space, tunneling through it, almost like a portal.¡± ¡°But they¡¯re ships?¡± ¡°Well, not naturally.¡± Grace turned back to him as the ship¡¯s fiery glow grew smaller and smaller, just a tiny spark now. ¡°They¡¯re animals, or beings, maybe. I don¡¯t know how intelligent they are. They can be tamed or befriended or something like that, and then people can kind of build a ship around them. Like, imagine a gondola on an elephant or a boat cabin atop a whale.¡± ¡°Crazy.¡± ¡°The wider universe is full of wonder. It¡¯s one of the reasons I took a gamble and jumped out of Christina to save your life.¡± ¡°Well, that, and you tricked me out of a piece of my soul.¡± Ward chuckled, folding his hands under his head as he savored the fresh, cool air and stared into the blue light of the biggest moon. Grace¡¯s voice was small when she said, ¡°I hadn¡¯t had any anima for nearly three decades. Christina barely gave me any when we struck our bargain; she . . . was damaged and cast off by another, older one of my kind. Before her, I hadn¡¯t had any since I tried to save Royce in Vietnam¡ª¡± ¡°The war?¡± Ward interrupted, shifting to look at Grace more closely. ¡°Damn, how old are you, anyway?¡± ¡°Centuries! But time is different for me when I¡¯m not in a host. It doesn¡¯t feel like I¡¯m that old.¡± ¡°Well, you sure don¡¯t look old.¡± ¡°Oh, brother. Get with it, Ward! I¡¯m not a physical being! Hah! Do you think they had hairstyles like this in the tenth century? Suits like this? I look how I want to look.¡± ¡°Tenth¡ª¡± ¡°That¡¯s when I was forced into the bargain with Hamlin.¡± She flopped back and groaned. ¡°Ugh! I didn¡¯t want to get into all this with you. I think your anima is affecting me. They say it can do that. I swear, I never talked this much with my other hosts. Well, that¡¯s not true. Verity and I spoke for hours and hours.¡± Her voice had grown wistful. Ward watched her for a minute, then turned to his side and closed his eyes. He wasn¡¯t trying to sleep, just rest his eyes and take a minute to think about everything he¡¯d learned, but sleep had other plans, and it grabbed him, pulling him down into a deep, dream-filled slumber. 7. A Stranger in Need 7 ¨C A Stranger in Need When Ward woke the following day, his mouth was so dry it felt coated in cotton, and the twisting knot of hunger in his belly demanded attention. He groaned and rolled to his back, opening his eyes to the pale gray-blue sky. He blinked rapidly a few times, growing accustomed to the light, and then he noticed a tall shadow to his left. At first, he ignored it; in his mind, it was one of the nearby saplings, more prominent than he remembered from the night before but nothing to be alarmed about. Then the tree cleared its throat, and Ward jerked his eyes toward the shape, realizing that it was not, in fact, a tree. A tall man with swarthy skin and piercing blue eyes that seemed to glow with pale yellow light stood watching him. He leaned upon a tall spear with a long, curved blade and was wrapped head to toe in soft, flowing green robes. ¡°Good morning, stranger.¡± His voice was pleasant, warm, even, and Ward found himself responding with a smile. ¡°Um, good morning.¡± Ward hurriedly glanced around, looking for Grace, but saw no sign of his personal devil. Had he imagined the whole thing? He grunted, shifting to sit up on the blanket. ¡°I noticed your camp. It occurred to me that I might better use my time advancing in my journey, but then I thought, ¡®No, Huseem, no. A fellow traveler there rests, and a good traveler sees to the needs of those with whom he shares the road.¡¯ So, traveler, might I offer you any aid?¡± Ward cleared his throat, uncomfortable sitting while the stranger loomed over him. ¡°What now? Aid?¡± ¡°You seem well fed. Hale, in fact. I see the shine of mana in your eyes, so I know you aren¡¯t without means. A weapon rests there under your arm, and I see a well-stocked pack. Am I correct in assuming that you need no aid?¡± He leaned against his spear as he spoke, bringing his face closer to Ward. His weathered, tan lips smiled as his white, straight teeth formed the words, enunciating each syllable with perfect precision. Ward could sit and listen to this man speak all day. He couldn¡¯t stop thinking about how the fellow would make a killing as a morning show host or a primetime anchorman. ¡°Sir?¡± ¡°Oh! Right, right. No, I¡¯m not sure I need anything. Kind of you to stop by, though. I, uh, don¡¯t think I realized how deeply I was sleeping.¡± Ward didn¡¯t even remember falling asleep; hadn¡¯t he been in the middle of a conversation with Grace? Where the hell was she? ¡°So, where are you headed? Did you say your name was Huseem? Am I saying that right? I¡¯m Ward, by the way.¡± ¡°Well met, Ward! Yes, that is my name. I¡¯m traveling south and east.¡± He pointed for effect. ¡°The city of Tarnish lies that way, and I will venture into the catacombs.¡± ¡°Right, right.¡± Ward, eager to be out of the stranger¡¯s shadow, however friendly he seemed, grunted and shifted, clambering to his feet, hardly believing that he still had his shoes on. He hadn¡¯t slept in his shoes¡ªboots back then¡ªsince he¡¯d been deployed. He wore a pair of sturdy leather oxfords that he¡¯d bought off the net around the same time he¡¯d gotten his hats. At the thought, Ward slapped his head and frowned. He must have left it behind in the underground chamber when that crazy woman stabbed him. ¡°Something amiss, friend?¡± ¡°Just realized I lost my hat.¡± ¡°Ah, a shame. The sun can be unbearable. At least you have a good, full head of hair.¡± ¡°Yeah, guess there¡¯s that.¡± Ward reached up and rubbed at his short hair, letting it feather his fingers. He liked the feeling; it was a lot thicker than it had been yesterday morning. ¡°Well, anything I can do for you, Huseem?¡± ¡°Oh, how fortunate I am that I stopped by! I am, indeed, in need of some assistance.¡± ¡°Oh?¡± Ward had begun to dig through the scav¡¯s pack, hoping to find something to drink. He looked up, squinting a bit in surprise at the stranger¡¯s words. He grasped hold of a cool metal bottle with a screw top and pulled it from the pack. ¡°Ah, yes. You see, I have an ass, a beast of burden. You understand?¡± ¡°Sure.¡± Ward sniffed the bottle''s contents. He didn¡¯t detect any odor, so he took a tentative sip. ¡°Well, as we made our way toward the fine city of Tarnish, my ass stepped into the ash, and his hoof didn¡¯t find purchase! He fell through the rotten, burned timbers of what must have once been a cellar.¡± Ward swallowed the cool liquid and sighed with pleasure; it had a slight citrus aftertaste but was definitely water. ¡°Sorry to hear that, Huseem. Did your donkey get injured?¡± ¡°Yes, my friend, yes. He¡¯s lying there on the ash-covered stone floor with two shattered forelegs, slowly dying, suffering terribly. I watched him for a while, hoping the poor beast would succumb to his wounds, but he never did. Watching him, I grew hopeful as he grew still, but every time I started to have hope that his pain had ended, he began to thrash and cry out. The poor, stupid beast.¡± ¡°Jesus. That¡¯s rough. Uh, what do you want me to do?¡± Ward took another long drink, then he screwed the top onto the bottle. ¡°I need your help, friend Ward, to put the poor animal down.¡± He shrugged, almost as if to say sorry. ¡°How¡¯s that, now? You¡¯ve got a nice long spear there.¡± ¡°No, you see, I¡¯ve sworn an oath never to touch another with the intent to harm unless they harm me first. My poor ass has never done me harm.¡± Ward frowned. ¡°Aren¡¯t you harming it by letting it suffer?¡± ¡°Perhaps, but if I broke my leg, I don¡¯t think I¡¯d look upon a man kindly who stabbed me with a spear.¡± ¡°You¡¯re not a donkey.¡± ¡°Exactly! And there lies the quandary within which I find myself. I know that killing the ass is the merciful thing, but I know that it would harm the ass. I know leaving my poor beast is also harmful, so I must find another solution. You are that solution, my friend.¡± ¡°Ah, hell, man.¡± Ward stuffed the bottle into the pack and bent to pick up his blanket. ¡°Let me fold this up, and then I¡¯ll follow you to your . . . ass.¡± Huseem leaped to help, grabbing the blanket''s edge and working with him to fold it into a neat square. Ward stuffed it into the top of the pack, hoisted it, and snatched up his cloth sack full of pistols and bullets. ¡°Ready?¡± ¡°I truly appreciate you doing me this kindness, Ward. Not many so near the burn would help a stranger with such a request.¡± He pressed a fist into a flat palm and bowed slightly. ¡°Ah, nothing to worry about. I didn¡¯t have big plans for the day.¡± Huseem began hiking southwest, and Ward followed, trudging behind him over the new, springy grass. After a while, they re-entered the burn, leaving the vibrant new life behind and walking up and down low hills until Ward heard the most godawful sound he¡¯d ever come across, and he¡¯d heard some bad shit on deployment. He immediately knew what it was; only a donkey could reach that hoarse, throaty note in its cry. Still, it wasn¡¯t like any donkey bray he¡¯d ever heard. It was long, protracted, raspy, and full of misery. Ward hurried his step, loosening his gun in the holster. As he caught up to Huseem and began to hurry past him, the stranger matched his speed. ¡°You hear the suffering in his cry?¡± Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. Ward didn¡¯t answer. His face had grown stony as he pulled his pistol out. The donkey cried out again, and he altered his course to move more directly toward it. Huseem continued to speak about how much he hated to hear the donkey suffer and how he hated to lose a loyal old friend. Ward ignored him. He came to the edge of an ash-covered stone foundation, and beyond it, he could see what Huseem had described¡ªburned timbers, shattered by the weight of the poor, filthy donkey thrashing and braying at the bottom of the ash-dusted stone floor. Ward lifted his gun and took aim. He didn¡¯t hesitate, didn¡¯t slow down to wonder if he was aiming at the right spot¡ªhe¡¯d never shot a donkey before. He lined up his sights, aiming just beneath the donkey¡¯s long, bent ear, and smoothly squeezed the trigger. His gun barked, and the horrible braying cry stopped short, silenced forever. Ward turned to frown at Huseem, but he didn¡¯t say anything. He popped the cylinder on the pistol, pried the spent cartridge out with a nail, and slipped it into his coat pocket. He fished around in his other pocket for a fresh round, guessing by the heft of the handful that he had ten or twelve more after that, and slid it into the empty chamber. ¡°A mighty implement of battle you wield there, friend Ward. What an uncanny, deft, and mortal blow you¡¯ve struck! My old friend suffers no more!¡± Suddenly, Huseem¡¯s good humor when they¡¯d first met felt less pleasant to Ward, and he decided he didn¡¯t really like a guy who¡¯d leave his ¡°old friend¡± lying alone in agony like that. Ward watched him narrowly for a minute more, observing his facial expressions while he rambled on about his gratitude. He said he was sad to lose the donkey, but he certainly didn¡¯t seem upset. ¡°Right, well, don¡¯t mention it.¡± Ward waved and turned his back on the man, once again aiming to walk east. ¡°Wait! Wait, good traveler! Is there no way I can repay your kindness?¡± Ward turned back to him and shook his head. ¡°Nah, I¡¯m fine. Would¡¯ve done the same without you asking.¡± ¡°Then I owe you, Ward. Should we meet again, I¡¯ll not forget.¡± The strange, green-clad man lifted a long, slender arm and waved. Ward turned, waved, and offered a thumbs-up. He kept walking and, despite feeling like something was hinky about the weird stranger, only looked over his shoulder once to ensure he wasn¡¯t being followed. He had no idea where he was going, but he knew he wanted to get out of the ash, and unless he was nuts and had imagined the whole thing, he remembered Grace saying something about traveling in that direction. He felt good¡ªhungry but good. Something about the air, the sunlight, or just being younger and healthier was doing wonders for his mood. Despite the dirty business he¡¯d just helped Huseem with, he felt positively upbeat. ¡°Not like I left much behind.¡± He shook his head, chuckling. The department wouldn¡¯t miss him. He¡¯d pissed off too many people over the last few years, burned too many bridges. His sister would, and that stung a little, but Grace never said he couldn¡¯t return. Maybe he¡¯d strike it rich out here in the ¡°wider universe¡± and find a way to help her. ¡°Not like her husband¡¯s ever gonna¡ª¡± ¡°Ward!¡± Suddenly, Grace was there, standing three steps ahead of him. She immediately charged forward to punch him in the chest. ¡°Ouch! What the hell?¡± ¡°Weren¡¯t you worried about me?¡± She scowled, pouted, and snarled, somehow all at once, and Ward rubbed at his chest, trying not to laugh at her outrage. ¡°Worried?¡± ¡°Didn¡¯t you think it odd that I wasn¡¯t around when you awoke?¡± ¡°Sure, but I thought talking to you all day yesterday was odd, too. I¡¯m still not sure I haven¡¯t snapped. I could be sitting in a psych ward right now, chewing on God-knows-what kind of medication.¡± ¡°Not this again!¡± She balled up her fists and held them down by her sides, arms straight as two-by-fours, and Ward thought maybe her head would explode. ¡°Relax. I¡¯m not saying I believe that; I¡¯m just saying it wasn¡¯t so strange waking up and not seeing you. I did that most of my life, you know.¡± ¡°Well, you should have been worried! I was hiding!¡± ¡°Hiding?¡± ¡°From that man, that monk or disciple or whatever he might be.¡± She visibly shivered. ¡°Uh, I thought only I could see you.¡± Ward removed his pack and opened it, determined to find something to eat. ¡°Normally, but you saw his eyes! Have you ever seen anyone¡¯s eyes glow like that?¡± ¡°I think you know the answer to that one.¡± ¡°He had so much mana in him! I¡¯ve heard of yellow rankers or topaz-class adepts, but I¡¯ve never seen one, not on Earth. The most powerful mages I ever saw on Earth had eyes that only glowed white.¡± ¡°White? Isn¡¯t white brighter than yellow, usually? I mean, when I want to buy a bright bulb, I¡ª¡± ¡°No, dummy!¡± Grace shook her head, inhaled, and exhaled slowly, closing her eyes. ¡°Sorry, Ward. I¡¯m just wound up after that brush with death.¡± ¡°Brush with death?¡± ¡°That man was clearly testing you. Had you said the wrong thing or done the wrong thing, he might have killed you with a simple phrase.¡± ¡°A phrase?¡± Ward raised an eyebrow, smirking at her hysterics. He lifted out his folded blanket and began shifting the other things he¡¯d found in the pack, trying to get to some foil-wrapped packages he¡¯d seen in there the day before. ¡°Anyway, as mana builds up in a person¡¯s system, it grows denser and begins to take on color. You have a shine, not a proper glow yet. Still, when you get your first glow, it will be pale, soft white, and people might call you a moonstone or white ranker. As it grows brighter, it¡¯ll eventually transition to take on colors. Deeper, darker colors mean more power.¡± ¡°Lemme ask you something.¡± Ward grinned. ¡°If you can see what I see, how are you seeing my eyes?¡± ¡°Your eyes? Maybe the same reason I can touch you and nothing else. I don¡¯t know! Stay focused, Ward!¡± Grace cried, slapping herself on the forehead. ¡°I¡¯m glad, and you should be too, that you passed whatever strange test that man put you through. I thought I¡¯d be running for my life without any sort of host.¡± ¡°Oh, I see; you were going to let me just get massacred so you could wander around this nice new planet and find a better host.¡± Ward winked at her, then said, ¡°Aha!¡± as he gently pulled a foil-wrapped package out of the pack. He could already smell the sugary contents¡ªit had to be some kind of cake or something. He gently began peeling the foil away. ¡°What was I supposed to do? If I showed myself, I was afraid he¡¯d be able to see me, which might spur him to kill you. There¡¯s a lot of prejudice in the universe when it comes to my kind!¡± ¡°Prejudice, huh? I wouldn¡¯t be so sure that guy could kill me, anyway. Last time I checked, a .357 beats a spear.¡± Ward had revealed a dark, moist cake of some sort, and when he lifted it to his nose, it smelled delicious. He broke off a piece and popped it into his mouth. His tastebuds exploded with flavor¡ªsomething like almonds and brown sugar and butter. He chewed and swallowed, groaning a little with pleasure. ¡°Damn, that poor dead scav had some good stuff in his pack.¡± ¡°Poor? He was going to kill you, Ward. As for your little pistol, there, yes, it¡¯s dangerous, but not so much to someone who¡¯s reached bright yellow levels of mana.¡± ¡°Mind explaining that? I get it; his eyes were glowing a lot, but what else can he do with mana? I don¡¯t feel much different after last night¡ª¡± ¡°Ward, what you absorbed compared to that man¡¯s mana is, literally, like a drop of water next to an Olympic swimming pool.¡± She sat down on a patch of grass and looked up at him while he ate the sweet bread. ¡°There are words he could say with that amount of mana to draw on, words that would peel the flesh from your bones or ignite you like a candle. You don¡¯t have the mana to defend yourself. Even if you surprised and shot him, his body is so enriched that the bullet might only give him a shallow wound or bruise. I¡¯ve heard of firearms enchanted with glyphs that could surely harm someone like him, but yours is nothing special.¡± ¡°Really? But if he used those ¡®words,¡¯ wouldn¡¯t it dry up his mana? You know, put him back to square one?¡± Grace sighed and shook her head. ¡°I¡¯ve done a bad job explaining this, I guess¡ªmy fault. No, Ward, think of mana like a battery, a battery you can build up in your body. It never truly leaves you. It just depletes and takes some time to regenerate. It¡¯s like . . .¡± she tapped a nail softly on her chin while she thought and then snapped her fingers. ¡°It¡¯s like when you build up your muscles lifting weights! You get stronger and stronger, right? Still, you can wear the muscles out, and they need to recover. That¡¯s what mana is like. It never really leaves you, well, not until you die, anyway.¡± ¡°I guess it makes sense. That, uh, hemograph said I had a mana well now¡ª¡± ¡°Exactly! That¡¯s it! That¡¯s your mana battery.¡± Grace nodded eagerly. Ward swallowed another bite and then asked, ¡°You couldn¡¯t show yourself or speak, but you could hear, right? That guy said some city was that way.¡± He pointed to what he figured was southeast. ¡°Yes!¡± Grace moved close, eyes wide with excitement. ¡°And catacombs! I think they¡¯re one of the Vainglory challenges!¡± 8. The Road to Tarnish 8 ¨C The Road to Tarnish As they progressed, moving ever further toward the rising sun but now angling to the south, meandering between hills and skirting streams and outcroppings, the foliage grew greener and denser. By midday, the trees they passed were tall and wide enough to lean against, no longer saplings. ¡°So, the fire burns through every hundred years or so?¡± Ward contemplated the little copse they walked through, wondering how old the trees were. ¡°That¡¯s what I remember from the text I read. Well, I can¡¯t remember if it said century or centuries.¡± ¡°If you were stuck on Earth for most of your life, where¡¯d you get texts about these worlds?¡± Ward gestured around, indicating the planet they walked upon and also the ones above their heads. ¡°Earth may be low on mana, but it has been visited by plenty of beings from other places. Some humans have made their way through portals and back, bringing with them knowledge. Some of my earlier hosts had extensive libraries.¡± ¡°And they wouldn¡¯t give you enough anima to open a gateway? I¡¯d think they¡¯d want to visit other places with more magic.¡± ¡°Well, I might have exaggerated my role in the opening of that portal. Lafferty did most of the work.¡± She shrugged and looked up at him from beneath furrowed brows, almost like she was afraid Ward would rebuke her. He passed her admission off as no big deal, maintaining a pleasant expression, waiting for her to continue. ¡°In any case, Christina wasn¡¯t exactly rich in anima. I told you about her earlier devil, the one who just about drained her dry, right?¡± ¡°Only off-hand.¡± ¡°It¡¯s a long story, but back to your question¡ªopening a gateway to another world isn¡¯t something done lightly. Yes, it takes anima, but the spell I used also requires sacrifice. Your friends paid most of the toll.¡± ¡°My friends?¡± ¡°The cultists you killed.¡± Her voice had a note of humor, so Ward didn¡¯t bother arguing; she was teasing, probably trying to save face for needing a weasel like Lafferty to help her open the portal. ¡°You¡¯re a funny kind of cop, Ward. I¡¯ve been on Earth a long time and known quite a few police officers in my day. I don¡¯t remember any of them walking around with a pocket full of bullets.¡± He snorted, unsurprised at the change in subject. ¡°Eh, it¡¯s just a lazy habit. I refused to carry my semi-automatic, which pissed off my old lieutenant. He used to make me carry around speedloaders for my revolver; I think he thought the inconvenience would push me into carrying the department-issued Glock¡ªgot me these little clips to fasten them to my belt and everything. When he retired, I just started carrying extra bullets in my pocket, so I didn¡¯t have to have those dumb things on my belt.¡± ¡°Speedloaders?¡± ¡°They¡¯re like these little rings you put bullets in, then you can drop them into your cylinder all at once¡ª¡± ¡°Sorry I asked.¡± ¡°Oh, am I boring you?¡± Ward chuckled. ¡°Is it a fashion thing?¡± ¡°Huh?¡± ¡°Not wanting to carry the ¡®dumb¡¯ speedloaders on your belt.¡± ¡°No! Well, honestly, they just got in the way of everything. I¡¯d catch ¡®em on the steering wheel or seatbelt. They¡¯d get hung up on my raincoat. And, well, I told you, I¡¯m lazy. It¡¯s just easier to throw a handful of rounds in my pocket.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t think you¡¯re lazy. A lazy man wouldn¡¯t have followed Lafferty into that basement and then into the old, abandoned structure where he was going to kill Christina.¡± ¡°All right. I¡¯m lazy about some things.¡± ¡°Listen, Ward.¡± Grace stopped and turned to face him fully. ¡°I know you have a certain attitude, a certain way of doing things, but you need to be on your toes in this world. You¡¯re a small fish in a very, very big pond now, and you don¡¯t have the law on your side anymore. You can¡¯t expect people to listen to your authority, so be prepared for violence at any moment.¡± ¡°You mean like I handled those cultists? Or how about those scavs? You were ready to throw in the towel and basically told me it was game over. Don¡¯t worry about me taking shit seriously, all right?¡± Grace frowned and nodded. ¡°Don¡¯t get mad, old guy. I¡¯m just saying this is real, this isn¡¯t a fantasy, and I don¡¯t want to be without a host for the next century, so try to keep alive.¡± ¡°Come on.¡± Ward gestured for her to turn around and keep walking. She stared at him for another minute, then turned and started up the grassy slope. ¡°Quit calling me old, too!¡± ¡°Does a little teasing bother you so much?¡± ¡°It¡¯s just dumb ¡®cause you¡¯re a hell of a lot older than I am, and I wasn¡¯t even really old when we met. Shit, I still had decades before I could claim my pension without any penalties.¡± ¡°Consider it a term of endearment, meant as a commentary on your general vibe and not your actual age.¡± ¡°You¡¯re saying I act old?¡± ¡°You have a certain air about you, probably a result of being an authority figure for too long. Anyway, lighten up!¡± She stopped at the top of the rise and exclaimed, ¡°This ought to put a spring in your step!¡± Ward, just behind her, looking over her pale blonde head, had to agree. Idyllic pastureland stretched before them in an enormous, verdant valley that spanned the horizon from one distant purple mountain range to another. Straight ahead, past dozens of patchwork farms, circular white stone walls rose into the sky, surrounding dense clusters of tall, narrow buildings with colorful gables and glass windows that twinkled in the afternoon light. Not far away, down the slope upon which they stood, a road wended through the valley, running north to south. Vehicles of all types crowded the busy thoroughfare, from ox-driven carts to brass, clockwork affairs that gushed steam into the blue sky. The road was cobbled in red and brown bricks and had extensive culverts and high berms leading up to it. It looked like it could easily support four lanes of traffic. ¡°Quite a construction.¡± For some reason, Ward had it in his mind that they were in some kind of medieval world; though the scavs had carried firearms, they¡¯d seemed clunky and low-tech. Even their lantern had been wind-up. That road, though, spoke of heavy labor or construction equipment. ¡°It¡¯s probably lasted through a few fire cycles. The text I read spoke of empires solely concerned with building constructions that would do so.¡± ¡°Yeah, but, like, what¡¯s the tech level here? You said those scavs could be from off-world, so I didn¡¯t think about it much, but are we going to see gas-powered vehicles? What¡¯s the deal with the steam truck down there? If that kind of thing is available, why are so many folks using animals to haul their stuff?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know, not about any of those questions. I know things work differently in places with lots of mana, electronics especially. Take a look at your phone. I think we¡¯ve been here long enough for it to be affected¡ª¡± ¡°What the hell?¡± Ward interrupted, already looking at the little phone screen. He¡¯d feared the battery would die, but that wasn¡¯t the case. Instead, he saw nothing but static and multi-colored flickers of light, almost like he¡¯d dropped it and badly cracked the screen. ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s what a traveler recorded in his journal. Most electronics don¡¯t last long in mana-rich environments.¡± ¡°Well, damn.¡± Ward sighed, sliding the phone back into his pocket. ¡°I thought I¡¯d at least be able to look at photos or listen to music. I mean, assuming I found a way to charge it.¡± He gestured to the road down the hill. ¡°Come on.¡± ¡°I should . . . maybe . . .¡± She paused and looked over her shoulder at Ward, her red eyes less obviously alight with flames in the bright daylight. ¡°Well, I wonder if I should hide as I did with that stranger.¡± ¡°You think people down there can see you?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know. I think it takes some specific talent and a certain amount of mana, but should we risk it?¡± Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. ¡°Grace, I don¡¯t know. How common are your . . . people?¡± ¡°Not very. Just as on Earth, most cultures have written horrible fairy tales demonizing us.¡± ¡°Demonizing? A devil?¡± ¡°I already told you! That¡¯s not a name we¡¯ve chosen for ourselves! It¡¯s not accurate, at least not in the way humans have used the word!¡± ¡°Well, then, what are you called?¡± ¡°Ugh!¡± Grace stepped toward him, balling her fists, and Ward held up his hands, ready to defend himself from another physical outburst. She stopped short, though, staring at him with narrowed, angular eyebrows, gritting her teeth. ¡°We might accept the name, but that doesn¡¯t mean we all like it!¡± ¡°Look,¡± Ward lifted his hands, palms out, ¡°I didn¡¯t name you folks. I think I¡¯ve been pretty open-minded about you and the . . . things you do. Now, how about we play it by ear, huh? Go ahead and hide for now, and let me kind of feel things out down there. Can¡¯t you, like, talk in my head or something?¡± ¡°Maybe someday, but not yet. We¡¯re too newly bonded.¡± ¡°Bonded? Is that a polite way to say you¡¯re possessing me?¡± Ward shook his head, grinning, and started walking. He¡¯d always prided himself in being the kind of guy who handled things as they came and didn¡¯t sit around worrying. Grace was either a delusion or a real devil that he could see and speak to, and either way, he had to keep living. Maybe some psychiatrist would tell him to ignore her, that if she was a delusion, she¡¯d only get worse the more attention he gave her, but he didn¡¯t care. He liked to vent to the department shrinks, but he never let them tell him how to live his life. ¡°Bonded, jerk! Have I taken control of you?¡± ¡°Can you?¡± he asked, turning to look at her, but she was gone, and he assumed she was ¡°hiding¡± inside him. He continued over the grassy fields toward the high berm leading up to the road and laboriously climbed up. The gravel was a bit loose, but the soil was hard-packed beneath, and he managed to get up to the cobblestones without falling. One of the big, brass and lacquered-wood wagons was chugging toward him, billowing steam from a stack atop the driver¡¯s compartment, so he slowed to watch it pass. The vehicle reminded him a lot of an old flatbed truck, something you might see on a farm forty or fifty years ago. It was stacked high with baled green hay, and the smell as it rumbled past was fresh and rich, which made Ward pause to really appreciate the vivid colors and scents on the wind. It was a damn sight different from Seattle in late Fall, and that, combined with his overall sense of wellness and vitality, made it impossible not to smile as he stood there, watching the steam wagon rumble ahead of him toward the distant city. He started walking again, observing the people he passed or who passed him in their vehicles or on their mounts. He was surprised that almost everyone looked pretty much human to him. Hadn¡¯t Grace acted like humans were some backward, low-mana people and that he¡¯d be struggling to compete with more advanced species? Were these people not precisely human but human-like? They certainly varied more in size and coloration than the people of Earth. Plenty of folks had light and dark skin and everything in between, but some had hair and eye colors that would have turned heads back on Earth. He saw people whose hair was bright green, blue, red, yellow, purple, and pretty much every other hue of the rainbow. He figured the hair could be dyed; maybe bright hair was all the rage in this part of the universe, but still, that didn¡¯t explain the bright eyes that would have looked rather strange on Earth¡ªyellow, orange, silver, and a dozen other colors that would require some fancy contact lenses to replicate back home. Then there were the little people¡ªfolks Ward thought were children at first but soon realized they were just tiny people standing no more than a yard high. Similarly, he saw people who were nearly as broad as they were tall, maybe five feet tall, but with shoulders that would have given him a run for his money, and Ward wasn¡¯t a small man, standing at six feet and an inch. The diversity didn¡¯t end with all the unusual human-like people. Ward saw something like a humanoid praying mantis driving a steam-powered, clockwork horse. He saw more of the jackal people like Lizzie and the other scavs he¡¯d encountered. Even wilder, he watched some odd, blue people with thick-looking, smooth skin and a single eye beneath their brows pass him going in the other direction. He didn¡¯t know how friendly the various people on Cinder were, so Ward didn¡¯t lock eyes with anyone and kept to himself on the side of the road, steadily progressing toward the big city gates. One thing he watched out for was more people with glowing eyes like Huseem, but he didn¡¯t notice any. A few folks might have had a gleam in their eyes like Grace said he did, but he couldn¡¯t be sure, especially in the bright sunlight. When he reached the gates, he found he had to wait in a queue as some city officials inspected the people and vehicles seeking entry. He was standing behind a young woman with golden hair, wearing baggy brown clothes that almost looked to be made from burlap sacks. She wore sandals, carried a long walking stick, and seemed irritated by the wait. ¡°Hells and hounds! I have an appointment! What¡¯s the hold-up?¡± ¡°Mayor¡¯s trying to raise funds is my guess. He¡¯s got his boys out here examining every wagon, making sure to tax every blade of grass and sprig of clover.¡± Ward turned toward the new voice to see a tall, narrow-faced man. He finished his statement by gathering a huge wad of phlegm from his throat and spitting it onto the cobbles. Looking past Ward to the man, the woman nodded. ¡°I¡¯m sick of this mayor! We need an election.¡± ¡°Oh, don¡¯t worry. He¡¯ll stop the inspections a month before the next election, and all the sheep will forget why they were irritated. Mark my words; he¡¯ll repair the potholes and hand out candied corn to the kids in the square, too.¡± Ward snorted and nodded. ¡°Sounds like politics as usual.¡± The woman smiled at him, exposing nice, white teeth with a couple of notable gaps. He wondered about the story behind those missing teeth. A fight? Decay? Somehow, he doubted the latter. ¡°Just what I was about to say.¡± She glanced him up and down, noticing his pack and the sack full of guns and bullets hanging from his left hand. ¡°What you in town for?¡± Ward shrugged. ¡°Just seeing the sights. I¡¯ve been traveling.¡± ¡°Oh? Any place I might know?¡± ¡°Well, heard of Earth?¡± She frowned and pressed her thumb against the dimple on her chin. ¡°Can¡¯t say I have. Far?¡± ¡°Oh yeah. Very.¡± Ward figured he should change the subject, so he asked, ¡°What do you think of that city?¡± He jerked his chin toward the gates. ¡°Tarnish, right?¡± ¡°It¡¯s fair enough. Most of the roads are good, and the catacombs draw enough tourists to keep the restaurants and inns in business, so that¡¯s good for the rest of us. I¡¯m on my way to work; my aunt runs an inn.¡± ¡°What¡¯s the deal with the catacombs?¡± ¡°One of the challenges! Surely you¡¯ve heard of them?¡± The tall man interjected, leaning close as he spoke, dousing Ward with breath that smelled something like cabbage. He took a purposeful step away from the fellow, turning a bit so he could more easily face the two. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯ve heard of the challenges, but I don¡¯t know anything much about them. What are the catacombs like?¡± ¡°I¡¯ve never spoken to any victor, but sure, I can share some rumors with you.¡± The young woman replied, rescuing Ward from more cabbage breath. As she spoke, her lips moved oddly, and watching her, Ward realized she was poking her tongue through one of the gaps in her teeth. ¡°What about people who don¡¯t win?¡± ¡°Well, people who don¡¯t complete the challenge never come out.¡± She shrugged. ¡°Move the line!¡± a short, very broad woman shouted from behind the tall, narrow-faced man. The woman speaking to Ward frowned but turned and moved up the road, closing the gap between her and the cart ahead. ¡°Anyway, rumors are vague¡ªpuzzles, mazes, that kind of thing. Some people claim the place changes magically every time people go in. They only open once every six months. Sometimes, only a few people go in, but I watched more than a hundred enter the last time.¡± Ward nodded, scratching his chin. ¡°Do people work together?¡± She scrunched up her nose, thinking, then nodded. ¡°Sometimes, but they say the catacombs have a way of splitting people up.¡± The tall man leaned forward, edging up beside Ward. ¡°I was there too. I also heard a couple of the keepers talking in a bar the other night; only something like a dozen of those hundred have come out.¡± The woman shrugged, sighing. ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s the rumor. Something less than fifteen percent of challengers become victors.¡± ¡°Could be worse, I guess.¡± Ward knew Grace wanted him to go in there, and it was a little daunting to think of those odds, but he¡¯d never considered himself average in his entire life. If someone asked him if he were in the top fifteen percent of the force, he¡¯d have answered yes. Of course, this wasn¡¯t a cop challenge, but still, the odds didn¡¯t shake him much. ¡°You think so?¡± The woman looked him up and down again as though sizing him up. ¡°I guess you do have a bit of a shine to your eyes, don¡¯t you?¡± ¡°Does he?¡± the tall man asked, peering around Ward¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Oh, I guess so! I hadn¡¯t noticed in the sunlight. It¡¯s a pleasure to meet you, sir! Are you a challenger, then?¡± ¡°Well, I¡ª¡± ¡°I¡¯m Fayella.¡± The woman narrowed her eyes angrily at cabbage-breath. ¡°Do you have lodging lined up?¡± It seemed the tall man got the hint because he harrumphed and took a few steps back, striking up a conversation with the broad-shouldered woman behind him. ¡°No, nothing lined up. I¡¯m new around here.¡± ¡°Oh, right. Well, as I said, my family runs an inn near the center of town. I could lead you there and make sure you get a good rate.¡± ¡°Yeah?¡± Ward found the woman pleasant enough, but he also thought it was interesting how the two strangers¡¯ tone had altered so quickly when they¡¯d seen he had a bit of mana, causing his eyes to ¡°shine.¡± Was the ability to gather it that uncommon? He also had the small problem of not having any money. He didn¡¯t even know what these people used for money. Thinking about it, he realized he might actually have some; he hadn¡¯t been through all the pockets, pouches, tins, and folded-up swatches of cloth in the scav pack. ¡°Sure. It¡¯d be nice to have someone interesting to talk to in the common room for a change.¡± She turned, frowned at the long line, and added, ¡°Besides, I¡¯m never going to make my appointment. It¡¯ll be dinner time before we¡¯re through the gate.¡± Ward thought about the offer as he looked over the heads of the people in line, past the wagons and other vehicles to the looming, whitewashed city walls. He didn¡¯t know anyone in this place, save the woman supposedly living in his head. Grace didn¡¯t seem keen on showing herself around others, and the city sure didn¡¯t look like it harbored a lot of private areas. He might need a room in an inn just to speak with her. Again, he thought about money, wondering if he had any and, if so, how much. He let his gaze drift back down to Fayella¡¯s pretty brown eyes. ¡°Yeah, that¡¯d be nice. Maybe we could stop off at a pawn shop along the way?¡± 9. Bargains 9 ¨C Bargains Tarnish wasn¡¯t anything like any city Ward had ever visited. For one thing, it must have been built before or in spite of any sort of vehicular transportation. There seemed to be a central sort of spine of broad roads that ran west to east through the city, with major branches going north and south, but in between those roads were dozens or hundreds of smaller, narrow streets that wended up, down, and around hills. Buildings were of every shape, style, and size he could imagine, from a little mushroom-shaped bakery to a tall, circular tower that looked to be made of poured stainless steel. More than the winding roads and strange building diversity, the smells and sounds kept startling him with their constant changes¡ªscents from sweet, sugary confections to the stench of an open sewer drain¡ªsounds ranging from a little girl standing on a corner singing by herself in a rich contralto voice, collecting tips in a faded, olive-green hat, to a wagon master screaming at and cursing his camel-like draft animals. He could tell that Fayella was getting annoyed by his constant slowing down to stare or listen to one thing or another, so he tried to tune out the otherworldly sights and sounds and focus on the back of her head as she led him through the town. She surprised him, however, by coming to a sudden halt and pointing ahead where crowds had gathered on either side of the road, everyone staring at the two individuals in the middle of the street. Ward¡¯s gaze followed her pointing finger, taking in the scene, and when he focused on the two men who seemed to be squaring off, staring each other down, he caught his breath as recognition hit him. ¡°Hey, I know that guy.¡± ¡°Hush!¡± Fayella said, bringing Ward¡¯s attention to the fact that everyone was quiet. Traffic had stopped, people nearby weren¡¯t talking, and only the distant sounds of bleating animals and merchants hawking their wares drifted over the street. Fayella turned to Ward and whispered, ¡°I mean, hush, but tell me which one you know. Who is he?¡± Ward leaned closer to her ear. ¡°The guy in the green with the glowing yellow eyes. I met him in the burned area nearby.¡± ¡°He¡¯s a sorcerer! The man in blue, too. I think they¡¯re from warring sects!¡± ¡°They gonna fight?¡± Ward frowned, wondering if he should do anything. ¡°Maybe. Hold still, and hopefully, they won¡¯t hurt anyone.¡± Ward looked back at the two men. He and Fayella were a good forty yards away with dozens of people in between, but he was taller than most and had a clear enough view. What did she mean by ¡®hopefully, they won¡¯t hurt anyone?¡¯ Huseem held his spear and stood in a way that projected readiness. His eyes were narrowed in a scowl, but even so, Ward could see their bright yellow shine. He couldn¡¯t see the other guy¡¯s face, but he, too, held a spear. Were his eyes the same? Ward started to edge around the crowd to get a better look. ¡°Ward!¡± Fayella grabbed his sleeve, tugging at him, but others in the crowd nearby shushed her, and he kept moving. Fayella trailed along with him, and he carefully pushed his way closer to the scene, making his way to a point where he could see the right side of the man in blue¡¯s face. Sure enough, his eye blazed with light, though it was darker than Huseem¡¯s, almost orange. The two men had been staring at each other in silence for at least two minutes now, and it felt like the entire world had frozen. Ward started to feel something, like a vibration in the air, and the hairs on his arms and the nape of his neck began to stand on end. The tension was getting to him, and he held his breath, staring, waiting to see what would happen. Suddenly, a sound crackled through the air, and he realized Huseem had spoken, but it was such a strange, foreign noise that Ward¡¯s ears couldn¡¯t wrap around it. It had a hard edge and almost sounded like a mechanical sound, loud and rough, with way too many consonants. If someone asked him to repeat what he heard, he would¡¯ve said something like, ¡°Krkzkiszzzaht!¡± Of course, his guess wouldn¡¯t have come close. The sound was only part of what happened; as Huseem uttered the weird word, he lunged his spear forward, and, against all reason, the weapon seemed to stretch with a flash of light, like a bolt from a fictional plasma cannon. It flashed so brightly that Ward had to blink his eyes, and when he opened them, the man in blue had fallen. Huseem darted forward, spear raised high, but then another weird sound echoed through the air, and many of the folk on the street cried out. ¡°Gtzakkvi!¡± the man in blue screamed¡ªor at least that¡¯s what Ward thought he heard¡ªand suddenly Huseem was flipping through the air, flung head over heels as though struck by a giant¡¯s fist. The man in blue leaped to his feet, his robes charred and smoking, and lifted his spear high. ¡°Rkazvisatra!¡± More people wailed; some even fainted. Fayella grabbed Ward¡¯s arm in a death grip. As Huseem tumbled to the ground, Blue¡¯s spear lanced out, burning and smoldering as though made from lava, piercing Huseem¡¯s belly and pinning him. As Huseem wailed in agony, Blue stepped forward, both hands held high in the air, and uttered a string of those incomprehensible words, something like, ¡°Tkrrklka gzk tkwa kvkstka!¡± Both his hands began to glow with brilliant light, searing the air with shimmering heat waves that Ward could feel even fifteen yards distant. He and everyone else had to shield their eyes from them as they continued to get brighter and brighter. The sorcerer in blue stood just five strides from the downed, writhing Huseem and cried, ¡°Yield and renounce your house!¡± Huseem grew still, lifted his head, and focused on his opponent. He opened his mouth, but not to yield, he started to say one of those weird, clicking, grating words, but Blue wasn¡¯t having it; with a flash worse than a gigantic welding arc, the energy he¡¯d built up in his hands lanced down and, in a sizzling zap, reduced Huseem to ash. ¡°Jesus Christ!¡± Ward hissed, rubbing his palms against his eyes and blinking rapidly. When he looked up, he saw Fayella, too, rubbing her eyes along with most of the people who¡¯d been standing around. A few were moving off, probably smart enough not to have watched the duel. Blinking, Ward looked down the road to see the man in blue robes continuing on, walking as though he didn¡¯t have a care in the world. He let his gaze return to the blackened pile of remains that was Huseem and shuddered like someone had just tickled the back of his neck. ¡°What the hell was that all about?¡± It wasn¡¯t Fayella who answered. An old woman sitting on the side of a handcart full of melons said, ¡°Couple of monks having a spat about whose house is better. Highest adepts I¡¯ve seen ¡®round here in a while. Gods! I feel like my ears are bleedin¡¯!¡± ¡°I hate hearing the words!¡± Fayella groaned. ¡°That was the worst I¡¯ve heard, though, the things the blue monk said. Some of those words made me dizzy!¡± ¡°Aye, not for the likes of us, them words. Welp, these melons ain¡¯t selling themselves.¡± The old woman stood, picked up the handles to her cart, and started forward. Ward looked down at Fayella; she still had a tight grip on his arm, and he raised an eyebrow. ¡°Okay?¡± ¡°Yes. Thank you.¡± Ward led her a bit further from the center of the street toward the side of a building, letting more people push past. ¡°So, they can just kill each other in the street like that? The cops don¡¯t care?¡± ¡°Cops?¡± ¡°The, uh, town watch. You know the guards by the gate?¡± ¡°Oh, the city guards won¡¯t interfere with a sorcerers¡¯ duel. They¡¯re not suicidal.¡± Fayella let go of his arm and nodded, offering him a sweet, if shaky, smile. ¡°Shall we continue?¡± ¡°All right, yeah.¡± Ward waited for her to lead the way, and then they continued down the street. He gave Huseem¡¯s remains one final glance as they went by and offered a silent goodbye to the strange, cheerful fellow. He wasn¡¯t sure how to feel about what he¡¯d just seen. Two men had just gone at it in a magical duel in the middle of the street. What was he supposed to do with that? He still couldn¡¯t quite wrap his mind around it. The weird words, the blinding lights, and the sudden violence all added up to a surreal experience, and he needed time to process it. After a long, winding climb up a steep cobbled road that led to a cul-de-sac of shops near the top of a small hill, Fayella pointed to a small, blue building with a steep A-frame roof. The front deck was covered with stacks of everything imaginable¡ªpots, books, gardening tools, a rack of hats, another rack of shoes, and a hundred other items, large and small. The door, nearly obscured by the stuff piled before it, had a hand-painted sign that read, ¡°Talbot¡¯s Odds & Ends.¡± ¡°Talbot will probably buy what you¡¯re selling.¡± Fayella gestured to the stoop. ¡°I¡¯ll just wait out here. Take your time; like I said, I already missed my appointment.¡± ¡°You sure? I can find my way to a hotel if you don¡¯t want to wait around.¡± ¡°Nah, if I bring you back to the inn with me, at least I¡¯ll get some credit for that. If I wander back on my own, my aunt will just holler at me for missing my meeting and then put me to work scrubbing the floors.¡± You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. ¡°Your appointment was with someone at the inn?¡± Ward didn¡¯t really care, but he could tell Fayella was fishing for sympathy. ¡°No, no, it was with the doctor. My auntie will ask me about it, though, and I¡¯ll have to tell her I missed it, see? She¡¯ll be angry that I stayed outside the city last night and got hung up at the gates.¡± ¡°Oh, I get it. Yeah, that¡¯s not great, but I¡¯ll put a good word in for you.¡± Ward nodded, then shrugged, adjusting the sweaty straps of his pack, shifting them off the sore spots on his shoulders. ¡°Well, I guess I¡¯ll go in.¡± Fayella smiled at him and moved to sit down, so Ward stepped onto the wooden deck, skirted around a stack of copper pots, and walked up to the door. It opened with the ring of a bell as he pulled on the handle, and the smell of incense tickled his nose as he stepped inside. The shop was just as cluttered inside as out, perhaps more so. Stacks of goods rose from the floor to the vaulted ceilings. Other than stacks, shelves, and racks, lines ran in a crazy spider¡¯s web from roof beam to roof beam, from which hung more merchandise. Ward tried to think of a way for someone to cram more stuff for sale in the place, but he came up blank. Careful not to knock anything over with his pack, he wedged between a spinning rack of watches and eyeglasses and a tall stack of books to make his way to the cluttered counter. A small old man with white tufts of hair sticking out from the sides of his head looked up from a magnifying glass. ¡°Welcome in, traveler.¡± ¡°Thanks. I, uh,¡± Ward stepped over a pile of deep blue plates, ¡°was told you buy used goods.¡± ¡°You were led in the right direction. What sorts of goods?¡± ¡°Well, that¡¯s the thing of it, mister. I¡¯ve had a pretty damn strange couple of days, and frankly, I don¡¯t know what all I¡¯ve got to sell here. I don¡¯t even know what money is in this world. I saw a girl singing for coins out on the street. At least that¡¯s what it looked like to me, people tossing coins into her hat.¡± Ward set his sack of pistols on the counter and worked on shrugging the heavy pack off his shoulders while he spoke. ¡°From off-world, huh?¡± The old man set his magnifying glass down and peered at Ward with strangely beautiful, pink, green-flecked irises. ¡°Well, what¡¯d ya use for money back home?¡± ¡°Dollars.¡± Ward set the pack down next to the counter and fished his wallet from his back pocket. He opened it up and pulled out a wad of green bills, laying them out on the counter¡ªa twenty, two fives, and three ones. ¡°Hmm.¡± The old guy pulled one of the singles over in front of him and momentarily peered at it through the magnifying glass. ¡°Can¡¯t say I¡¯ve ever seen this currency around here. Quite an intricate design, though.¡± He tugged it gently, making a tiny tear with his thumbnail. ¡°Not paper? Looks like paper, but it¡¯s tougher than paper.¡± ¡°Well, yeah, I think it has linen or something like that in it. I really don¡¯t know what they make it out of.¡± ¡°Well, I¡¯d buy ¡®em if only to add to my collection. To answer your question, the Vainglory worlds have a standard currency called glories, as you might guess if I gave you a few hints. You can find single, five, ten, fifty, and hundred-glory coins. I guess there are thousand-glory coins, but I¡¯ve never seen one. Could be an old washer¡¯s tale, for all I know. How about ten glories for this funny, foreign money?¡± ¡°Oh yeah? I dunno. If they¡¯re the only ones in the city, maybe I ought to shop ¡®em around a bit.¡± Ward moved his hand like he meant to scoop up the bills. ¡°Let¡¯s not be hasty!¡± the man said, shooing Ward¡¯s hand away. ¡°How about you tell me what kind of offer might pique your interest?¡± ¡°Well . . .¡± Ward thought for a couple of seconds, trying to think of a way to bargain with the old man when he didn¡¯t even know what a ¡°glory¡± could buy. ¡°Let¡¯s set that aside for a minute, okay?¡± He pushed the stack of bills to the side, making his request literal. Then he reached into his pocket and fished out a .357 bullet. He set it on the counter and, next to it, placed one of his empty brass casings. ¡°You familiar with bullets?¡± ¡°Of course, though these are different than the ones I¡¯m used to.¡± The old man picked up the live round and peered at it through his glass. ¡°Your gun strikes the center here? To ignite the alchemical fire?¡± ¡°Yeah, I guess that¡¯s the best way to describe it.¡± He opened the sack and took out one of the big scavenger bullets. ¡°I noticed these bullets don¡¯t have a primer. They shoot at a lower velocity than mine, spewing lots of black smoke, and they didn¡¯t seem very accurate.¡± ¡°Poor quality alchemical fire. With a bullet that size, though, you wouldn¡¯t want good fire; it would destroy your weapon. What do you mean by primer?¡± ¡°That little round thing the hammer strikes.¡± Ward pulled out his pistol and opened the cylinder, shaking the bullets into his hand, then he demonstrated how the gun worked, dry firing it a couple of times. ¡°So, the ¡®hammer¡¯ strikes the ¡®primer,¡¯ which ignites the alchemical fire?¡± The shopkeeper took the pistol and turned it slowly, admiring the craftsmanship. ¡°Quite a lovely piece¡ªalmost looks like an artifact.¡± ¡°Thanks.¡± Ward held out his hand, and the shopkeeper handed it over. He reloaded it and slipped it into his holster. ¡°You think I could get bullets made for it?¡± ¡°I¡¯m something of a tinker. I could get the alchemical fire from a friend. Perhaps he and I could come up with a kind of ¡®primer,¡¯ though it might not function on the same principles as your bullet there. It shouldn¡¯t be hard to create something that ignites from the hammer strike, however. I¡¯ve seen alchemical fire that explodes if you drop it¡ª" ¡°Well, look, they have to be stable! I don¡¯t want my bullets blowing up in my pocket.¡± ¡°No promises, but I¡¯ll talk to my friend.¡± The old shopkeeper reached for the empty casing and the live round. ¡°Can I take these?¡± ¡°Yeah, but tell me how much those bullets are going to cost me.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know! I don¡¯t even know if we can make them, young man. If we can, I¡¯d say somewhere between fifty and two hundred glories.¡± ¡°For how many?¡± ¡°One!¡± Ward frowned, and then he held up the scavenger bullet. ¡°How much for one of these?¡± ¡°You can buy a pack of those for five glories down in the market.¡± ¡°Uh-huh.¡± Ward dug one of the scav pistols out of the sack. ¡°How much will you give me for this gun?¡± ¡°Oh, five glories.¡± The old man shrugged. ¡°And for this one?¡± Ward touched the .357 in his holster. The old timer licked his lips and then chuckled nervously. ¡°Five hundred.¡± Ward nodded, starting to get the idea. Uncommon things were worth more¡ªbasic supply and demand. He didn¡¯t doubt he could get a lot more for his pistol; the old guy was a tight-fisted bargainer. Still, he had no intention of selling it. He looked into the shopkeeper¡¯s colorful eyes for a second, then said, ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡± ¡°I¡¯m Gonjin.¡± ¡°Okay, Gonjin.¡± Ward shook his head at the strange name. ¡°I think I¡¯ll shop around for bullets ¡®cause I can¡¯t afford what you¡¯re selling.¡± He held his hand out for the live round and the casing, and Gonjin reluctantly set them into his palm. ¡°It¡¯s not my specialty.¡± He shrugged apologetically. ¡°Right, well, listen. I¡¯m going to sell you some mundane stuff, and if you don¡¯t rip me off, I¡¯ll consider selling you these dollars and maybe another special item from my world.¡± ¡°Rip you off? You mean to take advantage?¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± Ward started unloading objects from his sack and the pack onto the counter¡ªthe scav guns, all the scav bullets, a pair of stained leather trousers, something that looked like a copper ashtray, two empty wine bottles, and a small pouch filled with cloudy, yellow crystals about the size of his thumbnail. He kept some rope, the lantern, the thick blanket, another foil-wrapped cake, a brass flint striker, and the copper canteen. ¡°Well,¡± Gonjin said, looking over the goods, ¡°I won¡¯t speak fancy-like about this; you¡¯re selling me some junk. The only bit of value comes from them Yevar crystals; that¡¯s a kind of currency we get here quite often. I guess Yevar is one of the closer worlds via the Worldway.¡± ¡°Right, right. The Worldway.¡± Ward made a mental note to ask Grace about it. ¡°So, for the junk, twenty-five glories. For the crystals,¡± he pulled out a notebook and flipped through it, then held his magnifying glass over something, ¡°fifty glories each, and that¡¯s only seven percent under market!¡± Ward nodded and poured out the little pouch, counting out seventeen crystals. He started to calculate in his head, but Gonjin beat him to it. ¡°875 glories for the lot.¡± ¡°Alright, Gonjin. You¡¯ve been fair, so I¡¯ll give you another shot. How much will you pay for the dollars?¡± ¡°A hundred glories.¡± He said it firmly, and Ward could tell he¡¯d thought about the offer. He considered it momentarily, then he countered, ¡°Let me keep one of the bills for a memento. Just one of the singles.¡± ¡°Singles?¡± ¡°Yeah, the lowest denomination.¡± Ward pulled a dollar bill from the stack and pushed the rest to Gonjin. ¡°Fair enough. You said you had something else from your world?¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± Ward pulled his phone out of his pocket and held down the power button until the screen started flickering in its crazy rainbow hues and patterns. ¡°Ah! Electric!¡± Gonjin reached for the phone, but Ward held it back. ¡°Not sure how long it will keep working in this world¡ª¡± ¡°No matter! There are collectors who will be interested. Five hundred?¡± ¡°A thousand?¡± Ward raised an eyebrow, pulling the phone closer. ¡°An insulting counter! Twice what I offer? Surely, you can see the rudeness.¡± The old man sniffed, frowning, but quickly said, ¡°Seven!¡± ¡°Okay.¡± Ward grinned, setting the phone on the counter. Ten minutes later, he was stepping out of the shop with a new leather pouch filled with glories. The old shopkeeper had given him fifteen one-hundred-glory coins and smaller denominations for the other hundred and seventy-five. He tucked the pouch inside his jacket pocket, firmly snapping the flap closed over it. His pack was lighter, and he didn¡¯t have to haul the sack of guns around, so he felt rather unburdened as he hurried down the steps to where Fayella sat. She grinned up at him, exposing her missing teeth with something like pride, then hopped to her feet. ¡°Ready?¡± ¡°Yep. Let¡¯s go see this inn of yours.¡± 10. The Hens Nest 10 ¨C The Hen¡¯s Nest Ward followed Fayella through town, down winding streets, up steep hills, and past buildings and folks of all kinds. The strangeness of the animals and people began to fade to a sort of background noise in his head as he saw more and more of the small, stocky folk, the colorful hair and eyes, and the completely alien-looking types. Fayella was patient with him as he paused to stare at interesting buildings and people making a spectacle of themselves. One such group, a handful of people like the scavs he¡¯d fought, performed a juggling act on a corner, howling and carrying on whenever anyone tossed copper-colored glories into the wooden box they¡¯d set out for tips. After watching for a while, Ward felt obliged to do the same, so he dug his hand into his coat pocket and pulled out one of the small, light coins. It was easy to distinguish by feel from the heavier, larger coins in his pouch. He was careful to button up the pocket as he extracted the coin and tossed it into the box. The juggler in the front, a big, black-furred man, howled in appreciation. Ward chuckled and followed Fayella around the corner. ¡°It¡¯s just up here. See the yellow paint?¡± She pointed ahead and to the left. Ward looked and saw a large, three-story yellow building with a tarnished copper roof. A carved wooden sign hung out over the sidewalk proclaiming it the Hen¡¯s Nest. ¡°Colorful.¡± ¡°My aunt used to be a poultry farmer. That¡¯s where I was last night, out on the farm.¡± ¡°Oh yeah? You work there, too?¡± ¡°No, it¡¯s just a country home now. I was practicing my riding. I¡¯m hoping to enter the next derby.¡± ¡°Derby?¡± ¡°Yes, they have a race at every fourth opening festival.¡± Ward started to feel dumb with all his questions, but he pressed on, ¡°Opening festival?¡± ¡°The catacombs! They open every six months, remember?¡± ¡°Right, right.¡± Ward followed her up the steps and through a pair of well-used double doors. The inside of the inn was just as brightly painted as the outside. The ample, open space was bordered by a bar on the left, a wooden stairway straight ahead, with couches, tables, and a huge fireplace on the right. The wooden floors were well-used but clearly maintained lovingly, just like the painted walls with their garish shades of yellow and red. Light streamed from the many windows, and the space was warm. Ward¡¯s stomach began to rumble as soon as the aroma of roasting meats touched his nostrils. ¡°Auntie!¡± Fayella called out, walking toward the bar. Ward scanned the room again, noting the patrons sitting here and there, some with food and some not. A man with round spectacles sat on the couch directly before the fireplace, reading a newspaper. Ward kind of liked the image. He hadn¡¯t looked at a newspaper since moving out of his dad¡¯s place when he joined the Marines, and he felt a little pang of nostalgia seeing this one. ¡°Ward, come here!¡± He jerked his head away from the fireplace to see Fayella standing by the bar, speaking to a middle-aged woman with features very similar to hers. He walked over. ¡°This your aunt?¡± She beamed, pressing her cheek up to the other woman¡¯s. ¡°Yes!¡± ¡°I could see the resemblance, but I would have guessed you were her sister.¡± Ward grinned and leaned against the bar. The woman¡¯s narrowed eyes relaxed a little, and she smiled back. ¡°Oh, that¡¯s a good one! I¡¯m plenty old enough to be this one¡¯s mom, which is what I basically am, considering my good-for-nothing sister disappeared into the catacombs when she was just a wee girl.¡± Ward didn¡¯t reply immediately, looking at Fayella to see how her aunt¡¯s words might impact her. She wore a smile, but it looked forced, so he changed the subject, ¡°Ah, yeah. Well, your niece here sold me on a room. Stopped me from renting one from that place near the gates . . .¡± ¡°Ronald¡¯s!¡± Fayella supplied, quick to capitalize on Ward¡¯s fib. ¡°Oh? You stole him from Ronald, did you? Good lass. Well,¡± she turned to Ward, ¡°what sort of room would you like? Will you be staying long?¡± ¡°Not really sure, to be honest¡ª¡± ¡°He¡¯s going in!¡± ¡°Oh? A challenger?¡± Fayella¡¯s aunt looked Ward up and down a little more carefully. ¡°Not for sure!¡± Ward shook his head, chuckling at Fayella¡¯s enthusiasm. ¡°I¡¯m interested in it, that¡¯s all.¡± ¡°Well, the next opening¡¯s tomorrow, so you best decide quickly; you¡¯ll need to purchase an entrance ticket! I suppose for business''s sake, I should hope you don¡¯t go in, but if you do, maybe that could be good too. Do you think you¡¯ll stop by and share your story if you come out? We haven¡¯t had a victor stay at the inn in a long while.¡± ¡°Well, sure. I don¡¯t see why I wouldn¡¯t. I¡¯ll need a place to sleep, won¡¯t I?¡± Ward winked at her and added, ¡°Something smells damn good. You think I could get a plate? Oh, as far as my room goes, something with a comfortable bed and privacy is all I really care about.¡± ¡°A bath?¡± Ward scratched the stubble on his chin; he was still thinking like he was on Earth¡ªapparently, bathrooms weren¡¯t standard. ¡°Uh, yeah, I¡¯d like a bath. Look, I¡¯m new to this world. Do the rooms have toilets?¡± ¡°Some of ¡®em, aye. Sounds like you want a suite, and I can give you the Grand Rooster for twenty a night, dinner and breakfast included!¡± ¡°Twenty?¡± Ward nodded, glanced at Fayella, and made eye contact before looking back at her aunt. ¡°Well, that¡¯s awfully kind of you to offer me a discount, but I already agreed to twenty-five with Fayella while we walked this way.¡± ¡°Oh, did you, now? Well, if you struck a bargain, I appreciate you sticking to it. What a pleasure to have such a cultured guest! Why don¡¯t you sit down here and have a meal while Fay gets your room ready?¡± ¡°Sounds perfect.¡± Ward shrugged out of his backpack and leaned it on the bar next to a high stool, then he took a seat. ¡°See you around, Ward.¡± Fayella squeezed his shoulder, a gentle touch that felt so good on his tired, sore muscles that he found himself yearning for more as she let go and left via the stairs. ¡°I¡¯ve got stew and fresh bread at the moment. That be all right?¡± While she spoke, the aunt turned and picked up a large stoneware mug and held it under a tap. ¡°House ale, too, of course.¡± Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road. ¡°Sounds damn good.¡± Ward took the mug and sipped the beer, finding it a bit foamy and warm for his tastes, but, as he¡¯d said, it was damn good on a dry throat. He took a long pull, set the mug down, and asked, ¡°Never got your name.¡± ¡°Oh, I¡¯m sorry! I¡¯m Fanna, but everyone calls me Fan.¡± ¡°Fan and Fay, huh?¡± ¡°That¡¯s right! Don¡¯t let her grousing fool you, either; we get along quite well.¡± She watched Ward take another sip of beer, then turned to the door that, he supposed, led to the kitchen. ¡°I¡¯ll get your food.¡± As soon as the door swung shut behind her, Grace spoke up. The sudden sound of her voice, right beside him, startled him so, that he inhaled some foam off his beer. As he coughed and sputtered, Grace said, ¡°You sure seem to be enjoying yourself, flirting with the townsfolk!¡± He took a moment to swallow and gather himself before he turned to find her perched atop the stool beside him. ¡°I¡¯m not really flirting, and what do you expect? You don¡¯t want me to be friendly?¡± ¡°There¡¯s friendly, and then there¡¯s friendly, Ward.¡± ¡°You¡¯re nuts. I didn¡¯t even say anything¡ª¡± He cut himself off as the door swung open, and Fan walked out of the kitchen carrying a steaming wooden bowl with a thick wedge of fresh, buttered bread protruding from the rim. She set the dish before him and laid a spoon with a linen napkin next to it. ¡°Enjoy!¡± ¡°Oh, I will! Thanks, Fan.¡± He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out his coin pouch. ¡°Just a sec.¡± He dug around inside, bypassing the golden hundred-glory coins, and pulled out some silver ones. He set one of the small ones, about the size of a fingernail, representing five glories, and then two larger ones, ten glories each, on the bar. ¡°For my stay.¡± The coins were minted in the same style, each with, strangely, Roman numerals on one side representing the value and then seemingly random etchings on the other. He¡¯d taken a minute when Gonjin paid him to look at the images, but he hadn¡¯t found any two coins with the same one. The variety seemed endless¡ªfaces, weapons, stars, even things like mountains or wagons. ¡°Thank you, good sir!¡± Fan reached over the bar to slide the coins toward her. ¡°I¡¯ve some other patrons to see to. Enjoy your food. I''m sure Fay will be along shortly to show you your room.¡± ¡°Thanks.¡± Ward tucked into the stew, enjoying the rich, flavorful broth, soft potatoes, and hearty hunks of meat. He couldn¡¯t tell if it was beef or something similar, but it tasted good, so he didn¡¯t spend much effort wondering. ¡°Good?¡± Grace asked, leaning close and sniffing his bowl. ¡°You can¡¯t tell?¡± She closed her eyes briefly, then smiled in a way that brought to mind a cat with a mouse under its paw. ¡°God, that¡¯s good.¡± She snatched a piece of carrot from his bowl and stuffed it in her mouth. ¡°Dammit! Only really works when you eat it. I can taste what you taste, like I can see and smell and feel things through you.¡± ¡°That¡¯s no fun. I mean being dependent on me tasting stuff.¡± ¡°Well, true, but I do feel your enjoyment, so that¡¯s nice.¡± She spun on her stool, glancing around the big room, then back to him. ¡°I haven¡¯t noticed any people with any kind of glow in their eyes, not since the blue monk killed your friend. I don¡¯t think wizards are common here.¡± ¡°Wizards now?¡± ¡°I told you, there are a million names for people like you¡ªmage, wizard, witch, sorcerer, warlock, conjurer¡ª¡± ¡°I get it, I get it.¡± Ward held up a hand in surrender, then stuffed some broth-soaked bread into his mouth, chewing with gusto. ¡°Anyway, I guess since Cinder is the lowest Vainglory world, not many actual wizards come here. That¡¯s good news for you, Ward.¡± ¡°Yeah?¡± he asked around his mouthful of food. ¡°Yeah! Not a lot of competition on the challenges.¡± Ward swallowed his bite and sipped his beer. ¡°I¡¯ve been thinking ¡®bout all that. Why am I doing these challenges, exactly? I¡¯m young and healthy; money doesn¡¯t seem hard to make here¡ªwhy not just try to start a new life right here?¡± ¡°Oh, brother! Is that the extent of your ambition? Don¡¯t you want to see what¡¯s out there? I open you up to a whole universe of possibilities, and you want to settle down in the first backwater town you stumble upon? Do you think Fayella is that cute? Come on, old man, think with your brain! What about that wizard duel? Didn¡¯t that blow your mind? Imagine being able to say words like that!¡± ¡°Easy, easy!¡± Ward laughed, shaking his head. ¡°I¡¯m not saying I don¡¯t want to see more, but, shit, from talking to Fayella and that old guy outside the gates, it seems the survival rate of these challenges isn¡¯t stellar. You think I should risk everything?¡± Grace slapped her hands to the sides of her head, squeezing her eyes shut. She muttered something Ward couldn¡¯t make out, then she opened her eyes, folded her hands in her lap, and very calmly said, ¡°Ward, I think I¡¯m going about things wrong. I need to remember you don¡¯t know shit about shit. Did you hear what I said about not seeing any other mages in this town?¡± ¡°Yeah, of course.¡± ¡°So, think about that. You¡¯ve passed by hundreds, no, thousands of people! Don¡¯t you see how uncommon it is to be able to gather and use mana? You have a real chance to be something special.¡± ¡°I was thinking about that. You keep saying that, but that scav I killed was bleeding tons of mana into the universe. I could only take a tiny amount of it. If it¡¯s so great, why didn¡¯t that guy mop the floor with me?¡± Grace groaned and, through clenched teeth, said, ¡°That¡¯s what I¡¯m trying to tell you, old man! He wasn¡¯t a mage! That mana came from his anima breaking down! He didn¡¯t have any mana in his system, or if he did, he couldn¡¯t do squat with it.¡± ¡°But I can?¡± ¡°Yes!¡± Grace frowned and added, ¡°Well, potentially.¡± ¡°So, what can I do?¡± Ward finished his beer and started mopping up the last of the broth in his bowl with his bread crust, waiting for an answer. When none came, he looked over to see Grace was gone, but Fayella was approaching across the common room. ¡°To be continued, I guess.¡± Fayella leaned against the bar nearby. ¡°Was your meal good? Need anything else?¡± Ward looked at her, wondering if Grace had been right. Was he flirting? Not in his opinion, at least not more than he usually did. Had he been accused of being a flirt before? Sure, but in his mind, he was mostly just being friendly. Besides, this girl was way too young for him. ¡°It was great, and I¡¯m all set. The room ready?¡± He stood, pushing his empty bowl away from the edge and reaching for his backpack. ¡°Yep. After me, sir.¡± Fay grinned at him, and Ward couldn¡¯t help smiling back. He liked how she didn¡¯t make any attempt to hide her missing teeth. Getting a good look at them like that, he saw she was missing one on the top-left and one on the bottom beneath it. Had she been struck in the mouth? He didn¡¯t see any noticeable scars. He knew the curiosity was natural, but also that it was not something he should ask about. Maybe she¡¯d bring it up on her own eventually. Fay led him up the stairs, down a short, yellow-painted hallway, and stopped at the end. ¡°The Grand Rooster,¡± she announced, pushing the door open. Ward chuckled, stepping through the door; the name was funny, but he could see where it came from. The rugs on the wooden floor were red, the walls were painted red and black, and the big bed by the bay windows was covered in a fluffy red comforter. An alcove to the left opened into a partially separate room where an enormous copper tub sat beside an antique-looking toilet. Still, it was a toilet and not a chamber pot, as he¡¯d secretly feared, so he was thankful for small mercies. ¡°Nice!¡± He walked over to the trunk at the foot of the bed and set his pack on top. ¡°You know where to find me if you need something. Oh, and thanks, Ward. You know, for making it sound like I did something smart for a change.¡± Ward turned to see her still standing in the doorway, hands clasped before her. Her attitude was certainly a lot more subdued around the inn than it had been outside the gates. ¡°Don¡¯t mention it. Hey, let me know if I can help with anything else. I¡¯m not sure what you were seeing the doctor about, but if it¡¯s anything I can¡ª¡± ¡°It¡¯s nothing. Thanks for the offer.¡± She backed up quickly, pulling the door partway closed. ¡°Enjoy your stay.¡± As soon as the door clicked shut, Grace was standing before it. ¡°I¡¯m starting to think I can go ahead and walk about with you. I don¡¯t think the people here are going to notice me.¡± ¡°Could run into that monk who melted Huseem.¡± Ward wasn¡¯t sure he wanted Grace walking around with him constantly. ¡°Could¡­I guess.¡± She frowned, then walked over and hopped onto the bed, reclining on the thick pile of pillows. ¡°Let¡¯s get back to our earlier discussion. Seriously, Ward, we need to talk.¡± 11. The Truth 11 ¨C The Truth Ward looked at Grace for a long minute, always a little annoyed when someone said his name like that, especially following it up with ¡®We need to talk.¡¯ ¡°What? The catacombs?¡± ¡°Yes!¡± Grace leaned close, her voice emphatic. ¡°You absolutely should attempt the challenge.¡± Ward watched Grace sit on the rug at the foot of the bed, folding her legs under her effortlessly. There was a plushly upholstered wooden chair next to the alcove leading to the bath, so he pulled it over, facing Grace, and sat it in. ¡°Look, I¡¯m not a boring guy. I¡¯ve lived a pretty damn risky life by, you know, Earth standards. I¡¯m interested in learning more about all the worlds and,¡± he waved his hand around expansively, ¡°I don¡¯t know . . . people and magic and shit. I¡¯m not looking to die for no reason, though.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not ¡®for no reason,¡¯ you doofus! That¡¯s what I¡¯ve been trying to explain. Do you remember that feeling when you absorbed that tiny bit of mana?¡± Ward closed his eyes and thought back to how it had felt when those minuscule, magical motes had sunk into his flesh. The tingles of pleasure, the brief feeling of being part of something vast and wonderful. Yeah, he could remember it. He cleared his throat. ¡°Sure.¡± ¡°Well, that was a tiny scratch at the surface! If we can win some prizes in the challenges and use them to improve your vessel, there are depths of power and . . . fulfillment we can explore that you can only dream about.¡± ¡°My vessel?¡± ¡°Ugh! Your body! Your flesh! Your cellular structure. Let me think of an analogy you might grasp. You like guns, yeah?¡± ¡°Like? I dunno; I guess I like my revolver¡ª¡± ¡°Okay, imagine if someone built a bullet out of a new, spectacular gunpowder. Imagine it was a hundred times more potent than regular gunpowder. What would happen if you fired a bullet like that out of your trusty little gun?¡± ¡°It would explode.¡± ¡°Bingo! Mana is potent, Ward. Using it will likely mess you up, even the tiny amount you absorbed. Now, what if we invented a way to increase the density of your gun¡¯s frame? What if we could make that metal a hundred times stronger?¡± ¡°Well, then I¡¯d probably break my wrist shooting something like that¡ª¡± Grace leaned forward, scowling. ¡°Oh, brother! Come on, don¡¯t get lost in the weeds!¡± ¡°Relax! I¡¯m joking. I get what you¡¯re saying. I need to make my body stronger to use the mana. It doesn¡¯t make sense, though. How could I absorb it but not use it?¡± ¡°No, you just don¡¯t have all the facts yet. Let me try to explain a bit more. There are three kinds of people, speaking broadly and only with regard to mana and its use. The first are the average people, those like your friends downstairs, people without the ability to interact with mana. Christina, my previous host, called people like that ¡®mundanes.¡¯ The second category is people like you. They can see and interact with mana, but using the words to try to control it would rip their bodies apart. Finally, you have the third category, those who can see, harvest, and command the mana. To most people, though, you¡¯re either a wizard or you¡¯re not.¡± ¡°So, to the folks downstairs, I¡¯m a wizard, just cause my eyes shine a little in the right light?¡± ¡°Now you¡¯re getting it.¡± ¡°You know, Grace, this is kind of like pulling teeth. What the hell can it do for me? What¡¯s the point of being a wordless wizard?¡± ¡°Ugh! You have passive benefits! Use your little thing again¡ªthe hemograph.¡± Ward frowned, but he complied, curious about where this was going. He pulled his pack over, leaned it against the chair, and dug the device out. Grimacing slightly, he took one of the knives he¡¯d kept and gave himself a fresh nick on the side of his finger. He chuckled as he pressed the blood into the slight depression. ¡°I wonder if that would cut down on screen time.¡± When Grace didn¡¯t laugh, he added, ¡°You know, if people had to give some blood to get the thing to turn on.¡± Grace sighed. ¡°Focus, Ward. Look at your numbers.¡± With a disappointed tsk, Ward put the knife down and lifted the hemograph:
Bloodline: Basic Human (h)
Accumulated Mana: 0
Mana Well: Tin + 2.0
Mana Sensitivity: Bronze
Mana Pathways: Tin
Vessel Capacity: Tin
Vessel Durability: h + 2.24
Vessel Strength: h + 1.15
Vessel Speed: h + 0.51
Longevity remaining: ~41.12%
Anima: NIL
His frown fell away as his brow wrinkled in confusion. ¡°What the hell? My accumulated mana is gone! It was at five percent before.¡± ¡°Look at the other numbers.¡± ¡°Right¡­¡± Ward tried to add up the other numbers, wondering if they¡¯d equal five percent, but it kept coming up short. Then, he remembered that his ¡°mana well¡± had been at one-point-one before. That fixed the math. ¡°So, that mana I absorbed¡ªwhat? It made those other things better? My mana well, my durability, strength, and speed? Shit.¡± His frown deepened. ¡°My longevity?¡± The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°Exactly. Before you ask, I don¡¯t know why it went to those stats in those amounts, but the point is that you¡¯re already making your vessel stronger. Haven¡¯t you noticed how great you feel? Sure, I took some years off your beat-up old body and fixed it up, but have you felt very tired since absorbing that mana? Have you been overly hungry or thirsty? Think about that! Have you had any trouble traipsing about for a couple of days with just a few gulps of water out of an old canteen? I bet you¡¯re stronger and faster than you ever were back on Earth. You just haven¡¯t been put to a real test yet. Now, imagine getting more and more mana as we improve your body. Imagine getting to the point where you can say some of the words and work real magic!¡± ¡°Yeah, but not all of my stats have numbers. I don¡¯t think just absorbing mana is going to do the trick. My mana pathways¡ªwhatever the hell those are¡ªdon¡¯t seem to¡ª¡± ¡°Now you¡¯re getting it! That¡¯s the point of the catacombs! We go in there, you get a refinement potion, and everything will improve.¡± ¡°Refinement pot¡ª¡± Grace waved her hand, ¡°Forget that; it¡¯s just something I¡¯ve read about. There are other things too¡ªmagical treasures that can improve all or part of your vessel. The more we work at it, the better you get! Come on! Don¡¯t you have any ambition, old man?¡± ¡°I can see what you¡¯re doing.¡± Ward folded his arms over his chest. He could see it; he wasn¡¯t a dummy. She was challenging his ego, trying to get a rise out of him. She was right, in a way, he supposed. He¡¯d let his old job beat him down¡ªwear him down. He¡¯d been ready to do something small, something quiet, for the rest of his life. He frowned, thinking about it. He was just being thoughtful, running the options through his mind, weighing the possibilities. He was leaning toward agreeing with Grace, but she, apparently, hadn¡¯t been lying when she¡¯d said she couldn¡¯t read his every thought. ¡°Look, Ward.¡± She stood, picked up the hemograph, and held it in front of his face, pointing one of her perfect, manicured nails at the line that read, ¡°Anima: NIL.¡± ¡°What?¡± ¡°I have to tell you the truth about something.¡± She dropped the device on his lap, her eyes down, then paced toward the window. Her bare feet padded on the wood as her shoulders slumped, but her reticence to speak bothered Ward more than her body language. He stared at the hemograph as the numbers began to swirl and fade away, a lingering doubt that he¡¯d been pushing to the back of his mind surfacing. ¡°So you did take it all?¡± ¡°I-I¡¯m not the most well-learned of my kind, Ward. I had to get help. I didn¡¯t know how to heal you the way you needed. I could have maybe stopped the bleeding, but I don¡¯t know the first thing about kidneys, and, yeah, just ¡®cause I had access to your anima doesn¡¯t mean I knew how to direct it.¡± She paused and sighed dramatically. Ward heard her; the words registered, but he was more interested in the rushing sound in his ears, in the blood boiling in his head. ¡°Spit it out.¡± ¡°Um, so, I used a little anima to contact another, older, more experienced devil¡ªand in this case, I mean that pejoratively¡ªhe¡¯s a damned devil! After he used a good chunk of your anima to heal you and make you a little younger, he threatened to inhabit you and kick me out. I¡¯d already used some of your anima to finish the portal and bring us to Vainglory. There wasn¡¯t a lot left¡­¡± She trailed off while Ward stared at her, anger heating his face, his heart rate increasing by the second. ¡°You gave what was left to him?¡± ¡°I did. I¡¯m sorry! I didn¡¯t want to be set adrift! I didn¡¯t want to miss out on what we might get going here on Vainglory!¡± ¡°But you took my fucking soul!¡± Ward barely registered the distant sound of creaking as his fingers went white, squeezing the arms of the old chair. ¡°No! Ward, you have to understand! People use those terms interchangeably, but it¡¯s not like that. You always have your soul. It¡¯s you. The anima is the, um, ¡°energy¡± of your soul. The fuel it needs to protect it and move on without your mortal form. If, um¡­¡± She trailed off again and began to pace while Ward sat there, fighting to keep his breathing steady, grinding his teeth. He didn¡¯t need her to finish; he¡¯d put two and two together. ¡°If I die like this, that¡¯s the end of the road for me. That about right?¡± She whirled to face him, eyes wide, wringing her hands. ¡°Exactly.¡± ¡°I, uh¡­¡± As Ward considered his anger, he was struck by the absurdity of it all. If anyone had asked him two days ago what happened to people when they died, he would have spouted some shit about hoping something more was out there, but he wasn¡¯t really sure. What had changed? Why was he suddenly upset with the idea of oblivion? He¡¯d been relatively ¡°okay¡± with the possibility before all this, hadn¡¯t he? ¡°It¡¯s ¡®cause I know there¡¯s something better now, I guess.¡± ¡°Huh?¡± ¡°You opened my eyes to what¡¯s possible, and now you¡¯re telling me I can¡¯t have it¡ªthis life is all I¡¯ve fucking got? You took my hope!¡± Ward stood, his fists balled into white-knuckled wrecking balls. He didn¡¯t know what he would do; he couldn¡¯t attack Grace¡ªcould he? He shook his head, unclenching his hands and squeezing his eyes shut, trying to steady his breathing. ¡°I swear to you, Ward. I swear on anything you believe is good¡ªI wasn¡¯t lying about hearing stories about people being able to regenerate their anima. There has to be a way. We can learn it if we win enough challenges to improve you and get you using mana like a proper sorcerer¡ªwizard¡ªwhatever. If we can move up through the Vainglory worlds, we¡¯ll begin to meet people who know more about the universe than anyone on Earth has ever dreamed. We¡¯ll learn more than my asshole uncle who took most of your anima!¡± Ward opened one of his eyes. ¡°That¡¯s who you called? You told me he was a bastard¡ª¡± ¡°He is! He¡¯s also the only one I knew how to call who could properly save you.¡± ¡°What¡¯s his name?¡± ¡°Um, Ward, you don¡¯t want to know his name.¡± ¡°What¡¯s his goddamn name, Grace?¡± Ward''s spine was up, and if he was going to be pissed, he wanted to know who he should really be pissed at. Grace licked her lips, stepping a little closer to him. ¡°Verithraxus,¡± she whispered. The name sounded more like a cough than a word coming from her lips, but Ward nodded, memorizing the sound. Anyone looking at his face would have recognized the resolve born of righteous fury in his eyes. ¡°Good. He¡¯s on the top of the list.¡± Ward knew his face showed his anger, knew his dark, heavy brows were narrowed, that his eyes were likely bloodshot with the pressure of his blood pounding in his head. Still, it surprised him when Grace backed up a step and raised her hands. ¡°You can¡¯t hurt me, Ward.¡± ¡°Hurt? I look like the kind of guy who beats up little girls?¡± Grace frowned. ¡°Right now? Sort of.¡± ¡°Well, I¡¯m not.¡± ¡°Did you mention a list?¡± Grace reached toward him, but Ward stepped back, angry and irritated that she seemed to be changing the subject or trying to throw him off guard. ¡°Gonna just brush past it, huh? Yeah, a damn list! People I need to get square with.¡± Ward had never made such a list, but he figured the occasion called for the start of one. He sighed heavily and turned to the wall, leaning his forehead against it, thumping his skull hollowly on the wooden planks. It was bluster, and he knew it, but he didn¡¯t care. He couldn¡¯t exactly trust everything Grace was telling him, but he¡¯d hoped making her name the uncle and making a nebulous threat might get her to crack a little more. The truth was, if anyone was at the top of that list, it was probably Grace. ¡°Ward, talk to me! I didn¡¯t want this to happen. I wanted us to get along¡ªthat¡¯s why I lied about your anima!¡± ¡°Get along?¡± He snorted, shaking his head. ¡°What? I told you, I didn¡¯t intend for any¡­¡± She trailed off, looking down, clenching her fists. After a moment, she tried to move closer to him, but he took another step away. Trying to push his emotions aside, Ward thought about what Grace had said earlier when she¡¯d asked him if he had any ambition. He hadn¡¯t really¡ªnot back on Earth; he¡¯d thought that part of his life was done. Things were different now, though, weren¡¯t they? He needed to find out how to get his anima back. That was a given; even just the hint, the idea that it had something to do with helping him move past death¡ªthat was enough for him. He¡¯d fight to get it back, just on the off chance that Grace wasn¡¯t lying. Forgetting that, though, she¡¯d hit the nail on the head describing how he felt physically. He might still look like he was in his thirties, but he felt better than he could remember ever feeling, even when he¡¯d been in the best shape of his life after boot camp. Did he want to settle down in a nowhere town and try to live a small, quiet life with magic and mystical worlds right in front of him? Especially now, knowing it was the end of the road when he finally croaked? ¡°Hell no.¡± ¡°Huh?¡± ¡°Hell no, I don¡¯t want to sit around in this little town.¡± ¡°So?¡± ¡°So, I¡¯ll see what I can shake out of those catacombs. I¡¯m pissed at you, Grace. I¡¯m pissed that you weren¡¯t honest with me. I don¡¯t trust you¡ªnot one bit, and that little display didn¡¯t help.¡± She rushed over to him, reaching for his hands. Ward pulled them back. ¡°I was only trying to keep you alive, Ward! I swear! I was trying to do right by you. I didn¡¯t know my uncle would do that!¡± ¡°Right.¡± Ward turned toward the door, scowling. ¡°I need to go buy a ticket for this damn challenge.¡± 12. Nothing Ventured 12 ¨C Nothing Ventured Ward looked down the long stretch of marble stairs, past the rows of tiered stone benches, into the bowl of an outdoor amphitheater where the entrance to the Tarnish catacombs sat. He found it hard to believe that he could just walk into some old ruins with some other folks and come out with treasures that might be the key to finding a way to fix whatever Grace did to him. He had a hard time swallowing anything he¡¯d heard from his unwelcome passenger, especially since she¡¯d disappeared all night, refusing to show her face to answer more questions when he¡¯d finally returned to his hotel room. The day before, he¡¯d gotten directions to the mayor¡¯s office, where he¡¯d purchased his ticket for fifty glories. They¡¯d been just about to close up for the evening, like most of the other shops around the city, so he¡¯d counted himself lucky to walk out with the piece of fancy cardstock. After that, he¡¯d spent some time sitting in the common room of the Hen¡¯s Nest, drinking too much warm ale and getting to know some of the regulars. It was all a little bit of a blur, if he were being honest, and his head wasn¡¯t thanking him for his behavior. Fan tried to talk him out of going into the catacombs that morning, suggesting he stay in town until the next opening to prepare better. The urgency of his ¡°condition¡± was weighing heavily on him, however, and though he¡¯d enjoyed his short time at the inn, he¡¯d declined. Not that Ward hadn¡¯t thought about waiting. Over breakfast, he¡¯d debated with himself, exploring the merits of ¡°finding his footing¡± in Tarnish for half a year, maybe finding a cheaper, long-term rental, and exploring his options when it came to tinkerers and alchemists¡ªthe types of folks who might be able to replicate his bullets. As he¡¯d sat, watching people walk by on the street with all manner of weapons, from spears to swords to blunderbusses, he¡¯d conceded to himself that it had been a while since he fought anyone with something other than a gun. He¡¯d mentioned it to Fan, and she¡¯d suggested he might do himself a favor by visiting the martial guilds in town. Still, Ward felt like pressing for the early initiative where the catacombs were concerned¡ªstriking the anvil while it¡¯s hot, so to speak. He liked to debate with himself, but he also knew he felt like going for it. After only a couple of nights in this world, he felt like his life back in Seattle was a million miles and a thousand years away. It was almost unsettling how quickly he was adapting to the idea that he¡¯d been yanked out of his old life and thrust into this wild new reality. He wondered if that was normal and if he was coping somehow. He also wondered if it was some effect of the mana or his strange, devilish passenger¡ªif he even still had one. Grace had certainly done a good job of making herself scarce. Whatever the case, he felt good¡ªexcited even¡ªwhich was something he hadn¡¯t felt in a very long time. The truth was, he couldn¡¯t remember the last time he''d been excited about anything. He hadn¡¯t even felt this kind of anticipation when he¡¯d married his ex-wife. It was almost like deploying with the Marines without the dread and existential guilt. Adding to Ward¡¯s general good vibes, the atmosphere around the amphitheater was festive. People were crowding the tiered seating, vendors were selling sweet treats, and in opposite corners of the open space below, musicians played, vying for the attention of the crowds. He figured it would have been nice if Grace weren¡¯t hiding. It would be nice to have someone to ask questions of, like what the hell kind of musical instruments those were or what exactly he was supposed to be looking for in the ¡°catacombs¡± when they let him in. Fayella was there, though, guiding him down the steps, her body moving with the beats of the drums. She wore slender black leggings made of something soft and close-fitting, and a blue crop-topped blouse exposed her lean, muscular lower back. When she paused near the bottom, still gyrating slightly to the beat, Ward grinned at her. ¡°You¡¯re in a good mood.¡± ¡°No work!¡± ¡°Yeah, I noticed your change of attire.¡± ¡°Oh, this? Yeah, I don¡¯t get much occasion to wear nice things. Sorry, you¡¯ll miss all the partying tonight and tomorrow!¡± ¡°I will?¡± Ward frowned. ¡°Sure, the opening is at noon, then the town celebrates. Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ll light a candle for you.¡± ¡°A candle?¡± ¡°Oh, Ward! How do you know so little? I know, I know,¡± she held up a hand, ¡°you¡¯re new to Vainglory. Anyway, the townsfolk light a candle and place it before the gates for their friends and loved ones, hoping it helps them to find their way out again.¡± She looked at him with her head cocked to the side. ¡°Do you have loved ones somewhere?¡± ¡°Not many.¡± Ward looked past her to the strange structure at the amphitheater''s center. It consisted of seven long pillars of white marble that tapered to points and came together above an oval curved wall, the center of which was occupied by a big set of tarnished copper gates. They were probably ten feet high, and if they were open, he could picture twenty people walking through shoulder-to-shoulder. Whoever had crafted the pillars and smooth, curved wall was a talented marble sculptor. They seemed to meld with the white stone of the amphitheater floor seamlessly. Fay looked at him strangely for a moment, perhaps waiting for him to elaborate, but when he didn¡¯t say anything more, she turned back to the bottom of the stairs and advanced to the last step. ¡°Quite a crowd today. I don¡¯t think you¡¯ll be going in alone.¡± ¡°No, the lady at the mayor¡¯s office said more than twenty signed up.¡± She looked up at him, the morning sun making her squint. ¡°Sorry you had to pay a registration fee.¡± ¡°Nothing new. Government loves to earn money for shit they didn¡¯t do.¡± The truth was, Ward had expected it to cost more; it seemed these challenges were pretty popular and sought after. It made sense that the people controlling the territory would try to profit from them. When he¡¯d taken a couple of steps away from the stairs, he realized Fay wasn¡¯t leading the way anymore, so he turned, looking for her. She still stood at the bottom step. ¡°You coming?¡± ¡°I think I¡¯ll part ways with you here. I don¡¯t want to get mixed up with the crowd at the center, and you can see where to go.¡± She pointed. ¡°Just go to the gate.¡± Ward took another step toward her, frowned, and then said the first thing to come to his mind, despite how morbid it sounded, ¡°Well, this might be the last time I see you.¡± ¡°Ward! I didn¡¯t want to think of it like that! I have confidence in you, anyway. I¡¯m sure I¡¯ll see you when you come out.¡± She frowned. ¡°It¡¯s not always the same amount of time when people emerge. You¡¯ll come by the inn?¡± ¡°Yeah, of course. I already promised your aunt.¡± He sighed, taking his turn to squint as he looked into her face. ¡°Right. Well, see you later, then, Fay.¡± He lifted his hand to wave, but she hurried forward and grasped him in a quick hug. ¡°Good luck, Ward!¡± Then she turned and was gone, hurrying up the steps. Ward moved his hands to his sides, pressing where the young woman had hugged him. It felt like sparks were dancing around under his skin. If he could have, he would have prolonged that embrace¡ªshe¡¯d been so warm and her touch so gentle . . . He shook his head. ¡°Snap out of it, old man, as Grace would say.¡± He chuckled and turned, walking toward the huge, slanted marble pillars and the copper door in the curved wall. Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. He wore his long-sleeved, white, collared shirt tucked into his navy blue trousers. On his feet were his sturdy leather work shoes, no longer shiny, but then he rarely shined them for work, anyway. He wore his pistol under his arm and carried his backpack with the rest of his belongings. After he¡¯d gone to the mayor¡¯s office the previous day, he¡¯d wanted to do some shopping for supplies to bring into the catacombs¡ªhe didn¡¯t know what to expect but figured some better boots or some backup weapons would be nice. The city was larger than it seemed, though, and it had rapidly gotten dark. Most of the shops between the inn and the mayor¡¯s office had been closed, and Ward had decided not to push his luck by wandering around a strange city on foot in the dark. Back at the inn, he¡¯d talked a guy at the bar into selling him a big knife, though¡ªmuch nicer than the ones he¡¯d taken from the scavs. It was a real grizzly killer of a hand-made, bowie-style blade. Ward loved it, and it currently hung from his belt in its hand-stitched leather sheath. When he approached the copper gates, he saw that the crowd was restrained by a thick red ribbon strung between copper stanchions. On the other side stood an officious-looking man and woman. The man wore a silky, frilly, gold and lavender suit, and the woman wore a close-fitting maroon dress that flared out like an upside-down tulip at the bottom. They were both in their middle years, the man a bit plump and the woman very slim. Ward could see they were talking but couldn¡¯t make out their words in the din of the crowd. ¡°What¡¯s the story?¡± he asked a short, portly man standing near the barrier. ¡°Just waiting for the mayor to start the ceremony. Shouldn¡¯t be too long now.¡± ¡°Thanks.¡± Ward folded his arms over his chest, getting ready to settle down and wait, but then he felt a nudge on his elbow and looked to see Grace standing beside him. She beckoned for him to follow. Ward frowned at her, irritated that he wasn¡¯t surprised to see her. She beckoned again, more emphatically, and, with a sigh, he followed her. She led him away from the bulk of the crowd toward a big wagon that looked to belong to a nearby food merchant. She continued to the back of the wagon, nodded, and said, ¡°I didn¡¯t want to come out around so many people, but I thought we should talk a little before you go in.¡± ¡°Now we should talk? Why the sudden urge to chat?¡± ¡°Well, I didn¡¯t realize how big an event this was. There are going to be a lot of people going in with you, and I didn¡¯t know if you¡¯d thought about what that means.¡± ¡°As in?¡± ¡°As in competition! People will try to make teams, others might be outright violent, and you¡¯ve got to be wary of double dealings!¡± ¡°Double dealings? What is this a Sherlock Holmes story? What do you mean? Like people tricking me? I¡¯ve been around the block a time or two, Grace.¡± ¡°Could¡¯ve fooled me by how you acted last night!¡± ¡°Are you seriously trying to turn this around on me? You screwed me over, Grace. You think I should feel bad about being upset? Let¡¯s talk about what really happened: you confessed, I got angry, and then you sulked, hiding all night and refusing to answer any more questions. Let¡¯s not forget that you¡¯re the only one who made any threats!¡± ¡°Ward, we don¡¯t have time for this. They¡¯re going to open the¡ª¡± ¡°We never have time! Whenever I start to get some answers from you, something comes up! The scavs, me falling asleep, you needing to hide anywhere I go in this city¡ªevery damn time!¡± By then, Ward¡¯s voice was quite strident, and he was leaning closer and closer to Grace, his face getting red with annoyance. All that said, he shouldn¡¯t have been surprised when a woman cleared her throat behind him noisily. He straightened up and spun around to see an older lady carrying an armful of empty burlap sacks to the rear of the wagon. ¡°Do you need some help, good sir?¡± She looked at him with wide eyes, and her posture seemed torn between continuing to the wagon or turning to flee the madman she stumbled upon. ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡± Ward straightened up and glanced at Grace, only to find she¡¯d conveniently disappeared. ¡°Perfect.¡± He sighed. He looked back at the lady. ¡°Look, I have a bit of a habit of arguing with myself. It started with my ex-wife. You see, I¡¯d often debate topics with myself from her point of view just to see how much trouble I¡¯d gotten myself into.¡± ¡°Interesting. Mmhmm. Well, now. I¡¯d appreciate it if you took your ¡®arguing¡¯ away from my wagon.¡± ¡°Yeah, sure; I was just leaving.¡± Ward smoothed the front of his shirt, nodded to her, and then walked around the wagon and back toward the gathering crowd in front of the gates. When he arrived, he slowly worked his way through the crowd toward the red ribbon. He¡¯d just gotten close when the stocky man in the fancy suit cleared his throat and blew a long, surprisingly loud whistle through his fingers. The crowd quieted, and he cleared his throat. ¡°Good people of Tarnish! We¡¯ll have quite the send-off celebration tonight! Twenty-three challengers go into the catacombs this fine, sunny day!¡± He paused as the crowd erupted with cheers. ¡°Twenty-three challengers and two from our very own streets! Haley and Fost, come up here!¡± Ward watched as two young people ducked under the ribbon and approached the mayor. They both looked to be in their late teens or maybe early twenties. They were very fit, wearing similar suits of close-fitting leather vests and pants. The woman was smaller, with short black hair, and the young man¡ªcurrently strutting around in front of the mayor, lifting his arms up and down to elicit more cheers¡ªhad curly blond hair and sported a crossbow strapped on his back. Looking at their matching clothes, Ward muttered, ¡°Must be siblings or something.¡± ¡°That they are!¡± a jovial man with a hawkish nose said as he enthusiastically smashed his hands together. Again, the mayor whistled for silence. ¡°What a proud pair we have here, eh, Tarnish? I¡¯m sure they¡¯ll be out in record time. Now, let¡¯s get the rest of the challengers in here. Be sure to present your ticket!¡± With that, he backed up toward the gate and watched as a man in a red and black uniform untied the ribbon between the central stanchions. The crowd shifted and surged, making room for people pressing their way up to the opening, Ward among them. He fished out the shiny red ticket and held it out to the uniformed man as he passed through. He lined up with all sorts of people: the two kids, older men and women¡ªsome who even looked old enough to make him feel young¡ªstocky, rough types, and smaller, frail-looking folks. He counted seventeen men and six women. It made him wonder if these catacombs were known for being a more physical challenge. Shouldn¡¯t women be just as interested in the prizes as men? Maybe it didn¡¯t mean anything and was just a random occurrence. He didn¡¯t know but figured if he was successful, he might find out as he attempted more challenges. ¡°Good people, challengers! You can see by the founder¡¯s clock,¡± he gestured to a tall clock tower on the far side of the amphitheater, ¡°that the gates will be opening momentarily! We, the citizens of this fine town, wish you all the best and will cheerfully await your return. That said, if you have any final words or instructions, you may purchase post-challenge services from the town secretary, Mrs. Holadash.¡± He gestured to the woman in the tulip dress. ¡°We can carry out messages, last rites, and even distribute your wealth. If you haven¡¯t spoken to her yet, make haste! The gates will only remain open a short while.¡± Ward watched with interest as one of the older-looking challengers approached the secretary. He was a stocky, short man and one of the few who looked like he¡¯d been in a scrap before. He had a notched ear, several scars on his thinly-haired scalp, a wide-bladed hatchet on his belt, and carried a massive backpack decked with everything from an iron frying pan to a handheld whisk broom. Ward wondered what sort of post-challenge service he was ordering. It seemed somewhat fatalistic, but he supposed if he had anyone he cared about in town, he might want to leave a note for them in case he never came out. He was just about to try to strike up a conversation with a tall, oval-faced woman wearing a layered green robe when the gates began to rumble open. He¡¯d been drawn to the woman by her glimmering green eyes, and when they opened wide, looking toward the gate, he realized why¡ªthey had a faint luminescence behind them. She was a mage or wizard or something. Ward reluctantly looked away from her toward the opening and saw that, beyond the tarnished metal gates, a steeply descending set of white marble steps led into darkness. A bald man with a big backpack and a sledgehammer in his hand strode through the opening. Some others started forward, and Ward shrugged, hooking his thumbs under his pack straps. ¡°Nothing Ventured,¡± he muttered, stomping through the gate, wondering what awaited them in the depths. 13. A Harsh Welcome 13 ¨C A Harsh Welcome The long marble staircase was the steepest Ward had ever been on, and as his eyes adjusted to the dim light, he felt a bit of vertigo sending queasy butterflies into his stomach. Some of the other challengers spoke to each other. A few made quips, trying to lighten the mood, but most were silent as they climbed down the precarious, seemingly endless stairs. Ward looked over his shoulder a few times, trying to gauge how far they¡¯d gone, and after the third such glance back, he could no longer clearly see the exit. ¡°Where¡¯s the light coming from?¡± a high-pitched feminine voice asked behind him. ¡°No idea. These challenges were crafted with more mana than even an archon could muster,¡± a tall, leather-clad man to Ward¡¯s left remarked. Hearing him, Ward wondered what he meant by an ¡°archon¡± and tried to mentally add it to his list of things to ask Grace when she showed her face next. ¡°Who made you the expert?¡± This speaker, Ward recognized; he was one of the Tarnish locals¡ªFost, if he remembered correctly. ¡°Not an expert. I just said I don¡¯t have any idea. Are you stupid or just looking for a quarrel?¡± The tall man looked over his shoulder and scowled down his long, angular nose at the much smaller local hero. ¡°Neither,¡± the kid mumbled, then leaned close to his sister and began a hushed conversation. Ward figured he was trying to save some face. He was contemplating whether he should move ahead, hang back, or just continue in the center of the pack when a loud gong sounded from up above. ¡°Gate¡¯s closed,¡± said a voice from behind him. ¡°Gods, but these stairs are long!¡± cried a woman a few steps ahead of Ward. He adjusted his straps with his thumbs and kept trudging downward, endlessly appreciative of his newly healed knee. He tuned out the small talk around him and focused on the shadows obscuring the most distant stairs ahead. After a while, he thought he saw a different quality to the light down there, like maybe it was growing brighter. He was thinking about mentioning it to the group, wondering if anyone else had noticed, when a different sound echoed through the air, up and down the long, marble stairway. A strange, crystal chime rang out¡ªding! ¡°What was that?¡± someone asked. ¡°No idea . . .¡± Ding. ¡°Again!¡± someone cried. Ding, ding. The way the sound was increasing in speed and intensity made Ward think about an alarm, and he began to wonder if it was a warning or a signal that they needed to hurry the hell up. He decided to go with his gut, and, despite the steep incline and the vertigo threatening his balance, he began to hop down the steps two at a time. Some of the other challengers called out questions¡ªwhat was he doing? Did he know something? Was he daft? Ding, ding, ding. Ward felt intensifying anxiety as the chime continued to increase in volume and frequency, and soon, he was recklessly leaping down steps four at a time. At least half the other challengers were rushing with him, and the big, hatchet-faced man who¡¯d threatened Fost stumbled and fell headlong, almost tripping up another challenger who barely dodged him. Ward heard a loud crack when the man struck the steps, heard him cry out, and, glancing back, saw him struggling to stand, one arm hanging limp. The end of the stairway was apparent now¡ªa dimly lit expanse of marble floor that stretched away from the bottom step. Ward figured he was only fifty or so steps from the bottom when the chimes began to ring incessantly: Ding, ding, ding, ding, ding, ding. He leaped, pell-mell downward, and he¡¯d just hit the second-to-last step when, with a smooth, softly grinding snick, they rotated into each other to form a seamless, horribly steep ramp. Ward¡¯s footing slipped out from under him, and he fell to his butt but only slid a short distance before he struck the marble floor feet first and somersaulted forward to flop onto his back, his pack cushioning the impact. The people close behind him suffered similar fates, but as he hurriedly scrabbled into a seated position and turned, Ward saw many hadn¡¯t been so lucky; they tumbled and careened down the steep marble slide, rapidly approaching the unforgivingly brutal floor. Ward scrabbled backward so they wouldn¡¯t crash into him and saw others doing the same, and then those who¡¯d refused to run or hurry down the steps began to impact with sickening thuds, cracks, screams, curses, and, in quite a few cases, eternal silence. ¡°Jesus . . .¡± Ward breathed, still scooting backward away from the falling challengers and the stairs that had become a treacherous slide. He¡¯d seen some messed-up stuff in his day, but watching those people crash into the white marble floor, spattering it with red in many cases, was a new one for him. ¡°Help me!¡± Ward turned to the cry and saw the young woman from Tarnish, Haley, trying to pull her brother out from under a larger man who seemed to be either dead or unconscious. Ward hurried over, and while Haley tugged on Fost¡¯s arm, he grabbed his ankle, and together they pulled him free of the big man¡¯s bulk. ¡°Oh, idiot! Stupid, prideful, dolt! He refused to hurry¡ªthought you were panicking. Well, he should have panicked!¡± The woman was in tears, and Ward felt sorry for her; he didn¡¯t think Fost would be going anywhere soon. The young man had a split on his forehead beneath which a massive goose egg rose in bloody, purple splendor. The fellow who¡¯d fallen atop Fost was in even worse shape. Ward had seen plenty of corpses, and he was a prime example of what they looked like¡ªneck bent in the wrong direction, skin flat and lifeless, and not a bit of movement under those prominent ribs. Ward turned away from the corpse and the crying young woman to take stock. He tried to tune out the noise and look around, ignoring the whimpers, sobs, curses, shouted questions, and exclamations. They were in a long, low-ceilinged gallery, rectangular in nature and entirely constructed of the same smooth white marble as the stairway. Something like fifty yards ahead, opposite the horrible ramp that led up to Tarnish, was a copper door. Ward could just make out the shadow of a depression or void before it. He wanted to go and investigate the door and the area before it, wondering if it was a pit or just a step-down, but he couldn¡¯t walk away from all the people needing help. That didn¡¯t stop some, however. Two men, one with a sword and one with an axe, carrying backpacks and dressed in sturdy, chain-link armor, began walking away from the injured and bewildered folk. Ward called out, ¡°Hey! You noticed the timer on the stairs? The chimes? What if going up the hall starts another? You mind waiting ¡®til the rest of us are ready to move?¡± The two slowed, and the one on the right turned to regard Ward. He was a hard-looking man with scars around his eyes, a rough, patchy black beard, and a scowl that would probably have made a child cry. ¡°We¡¯re none of your business. No prizes for helping the doomed.¡± His voice was a hoarse growl, but it didn¡¯t faze Ward. ¡°Good attitude. All right, asshole. You and your pal go find the next trap for us.¡± Ward waved his hand, flicking his fingers in dismissal. He turned back to the sobbing, cursing folks, the slowly-getting-it-together people, and the other ones like him, those who¡¯d survived the fall unscathed and were hanging around trying to help. He counted seven dead or unconscious and four with broken bones. He began to help move the still, possibly dead people out of crumpled piles, pulling them clear, dragging them out of the blood. Some people were clearly skilled in first aid, helping to bandage split heads and splint broken bones. Ward watched and helped where he could, but the truth was, despite his years on the force and his time in the Marines, he¡¯d never been much good at that sort of thing. He was helping to tie a sling for a young man¡¯s broken arm when someone near the ramp shouted, ¡°Get off him! Bloody scavenger!¡± ¡°Piss off! He don¡¯t need it no more!¡± a hoarse woman¡¯s voice growled. Ward looked to see a tall woman in nondescript brown and green clothes rifling through a pack that had belonged to one of the dead. The man who¡¯d called her a scavenger was standing by, holding a hatchet, clearly contemplating adding the woman to the death tally. Ward frowned, wondering if he should intervene. He was torn between doing the right thing and not getting himself killed or in a situation where he had to start blasting. Would the guy really try to kill her? What would everyone else do? One thing he wasn¡¯t was indecisive, though, and despite his desire to wait and observe, he found his damn mouth speaking up for him. Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. ¡°Hey, buddy. It¡¯s not worth it.¡± The hatchet-wielder looked over at him, scowling. ¡°You think we should just rob each other, huh?¡± ¡°No, but he¡¯s not exactly going to need whatever she¡¯s taking. Is it worth getting in a fight? Worth killing for? If you don¡¯t care about the killing, think about what happens if you get injured. This place doesn¡¯t seem forgiving.¡± ¡°Well said,¡± an older woman, well, probably Ward¡¯s actual age, said from where she knelt, helping to splint up a young man¡¯s badly sprained ankle. The woman looting the pack ignored the conversation and kept digging, but the man with the hatchet hawked a big wad of phlegm out of his throat, spat it on the marble at his feet, then walked away. Ward turned back to his work, tying the sling around the man¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Thank you, stranger.¡± ¡°Yeah, no problem.¡± Ward stood and looked over the survivors, trying to see who else might need a hand. While his gaze drifted over them, he settled his eyes on Haley, collapsed on her brother¡¯s chest, hugging him while she sobbed, and he noted tiny, sparkling motes drifting up from Fost, forming into a kind of twinkling, blue dust cloud around the kid¡¯s body. ¡°Shit,¡± he grumbled, stepping back over to them. ¡°Hey,¡± he said, gently gripping Haley¡¯s shoulder. She looked up, tears streaking her face, marring the makeup she must have worn for the send-off ceremony. How proud she must have been, standing in front of the whole town, all her peers and elders watching! ¡°What?¡± She rubbed at her nose, wiping a long streak of tearful mucus on the sleeve of the pale yellow shirt she wore beneath her leather vest. ¡°I¡¯m sorry to say it, but I think he¡¯s passed.¡± Ward glanced away at the other tumbled bodies and saw many more with the blue mana dust floating around them. ¡°Him and most of the others who aren¡¯t moving.¡± As he spoke, he saw the woman with the green eyes, the ones that shone with mana, squatting near one of the corpses and holding her hand in the dust. Was she gathering some of it? He studied her, watching her hand closely, and then he saw it¡ªsome of the stuff went into her skin with tiny blue flashes. ¡°Sorry, kid.¡± Ward squeezed Haley¡¯s shoulder again, then stood up and walked over to the woman in green. She seemed to sense his presence and looked up, opening her bright eyes and locking them with his. ¡°Ghoulish, isn¡¯t it?¡± she asked, her voice barely a whisper. ¡°I dunno. I guess it¡¯s not really his anymore.¡± ¡°Shh!¡± She held her finger to her lips, then motioned Ward down to her level. When he squatted low, she whispered, ¡°Not everyone knows how it¡¯s done. I assume you can see the mana? Let¡¯s not spark some sort of ambush. These folk might not so blithely look away. I¡¯ve seen my share of witch burnings.¡± Though she spoke softly, Ward figured it wasn¡¯t necessary. So many people were talking, crying, or moaning in agony that he didn¡¯t think anyone was listening. Still, he nodded to her and winked. ¡°Your secret¡¯s safe with me.¡± ¡°What about you? Will you harvest?¡± ¡°Hmm? I think I¡¯m holding all I can.¡± He shrugged. In truth, he didn¡¯t know how any of this stuff worked. ¡°When was the last time you harvested?¡± ¡°A few days back.¡± ¡°Well, you should have some more potential by now! You know the mana you gather will slowly improve you, right? Here!¡± She waved her hand through the cloud of blue dust. ¡°There¡¯s plenty!¡± ¡°Huh.¡± Ward held his hand in the cloud and closed his eyes, concentrating, trying to recapture that state of mind he¡¯d had the other night. To his relief, it came much more quickly to him, and before he knew it, he felt the tingling, electric, cold sensation of the motes entering his skin, first a couple, then several, then a dozen or more. He felt his breath quicken. His arm began to tremble, and if he weren¡¯t so cognizant of the woman¡ªand possibly others¡ªwatching him, he might have groaned in pleasure. All too quickly, the moment passed, and he withdrew his hand, opening his eyes. ¡°That was quick! You¡¯re very sensitive to the mana, but I saw you only took a few motes in. Well, persistence is everything. Keep at it¡ªthat shine in your eyes will eventually become a glow. I¡¯m Lisa, by the way.¡± ¡°Ward.¡± He smiled and looked up, glancing around at the tragic folks and the not-so-tragic. The crowd near the base of the ramp seemed lighter, and when he turned to look toward the distant copper door, he saw a small group had gathered there. People were moving on, leaving the wounded and dead to their fate. ¡°I feel bad about these people, but what can we do? The exit¡¯s a thousand feet up.¡± ¡°That¡¯s not the exit. The entrance changes¡ªsome trick of the magic the architects used. Some say the entrances are actually portals leading to different places; it¡¯s why survivors¡¯ tales don¡¯t really help others to prepare for what¡¯s to come. Anyway, the only way out is through.¡± She gestured with her head toward the distant group by the door. Ward stood and looked around. Haley was still sobbing over her brother, but almost everyone else was moving or had moved on. Even those with foot or leg injuries were hobbling down the passageway. Lisa also stood and started that way but looked back over her shoulder to lock eyes with Ward again. ¡°It¡¯s nice to meet another mage. I¡¯m sure we will be separated soon; it¡¯s the nature of these places, but I wish you luck.¡± ¡°Yeah, you too.¡± Ward waved, mesmerized by her beautiful, faintly glowing eyes. Her smile widened as she turned and continued walking. ¡°Oh, brother!¡± Grace said, suddenly standing beside him. ¡°Jesus!¡± Ward took a step back and slapped a hand to his chest, exaggerating his surprise. ¡°Trying to stop the old ticker?¡± ¡°I saw how you stared at that woman. She¡¯s nothing special, Ward!¡± ¡°Well, she knows more about mana than you do. She showed me I could harvest again, for one thing.¡± ¡°Hush, you big doofus. That crying girl is staring at you. I never said you couldn¡¯t harvest again, by the way!¡± Ward turned back to Haley and saw that she was, indeed, looking up from her brother¡¯s corpse, her tear-streaked face splotchy and swollen, big brown eyes trained on him. She wiped at her nose again, and he could tell she was about to say something to him, so he beat her to the punch, stepping closer. ¡°Hey, we should get moving. What if another timer starts chiming or something.¡± ¡°I can¡¯t leave him like this!¡± ¡°Tell her his spirit¡¯s already gone; that¡¯s how you can see the mana. He doesn¡¯t care about his body.¡± Ward frowned at Grace, but she had a point; maybe it would help. ¡°You know, Haley, between you and me, I can see the mana floating out of his body. His spirit already moved on. He wouldn¡¯t want you to get yourself killed or hurt trying to watch after his dead body.¡± ¡°Truly?¡± She choked out another half sob and wiped her nose again. Then she looked down at the body, and fresh tears sprang into her eyes. ¡°But . . . he¡¯s my brother! We were going to do the challenges together, and he¡¯s already dead!¡± ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s a real raw deal. Come on, though.¡± Ward held his hand down to her. ¡°You don¡¯t want to die here, too. Think about your folks.¡± She sniffed, nodded, and took his hand in her hot, almost feverish, slender fingers. Ward pulled her up, and they started walking. He let go of his grip on her hand, but she held on to his for a few seconds, and he felt a wave of genuine empathy for her; he¡¯d been in the shit when he was her age, deep in the sandbox, but he¡¯d had boot camp before that and a bunch of brothers-in-arms. She must feel terribly alone. ¡°Oh, Ward, Ward, Ward,¡± Grace sighed, strolling along beside him. ¡°You aren¡¯t that girl¡¯s dad or,¡± she looked him up and down, ¡°anything else. Don¡¯t get bogged down trying to carry her along, ¡®cause these challenges can be a real . . . challenge.¡± She smirked, apparently enjoying her attempt at humor. Ward didn¡¯t answer, not wanting to look like a nutjob in front of Haley or the other people they were fast approaching. It wouldn¡¯t have mattered, though¡ªwhen he looked down to see what kind of face she was making, Grace was gone. Was she afraid the woman in green could see her? ¡°Anyone have a grapple?¡± The armored man Ward had earlier challenged stood near the edge of a sheer drop ten feet before the closed, copper door. The hallway was wide, so despite the number of people vying for space, he could easily see the sharp edge of the marble floor and the darkness beyond. The door sat in a smooth marble wall with no ledge, no hinges, and no handle or knob visible. ¡°What are you going to hook a grapple to?¡± Ward asked, consciously trying to keep his voice level, friendly, even. ¡°I dunno. Was gonna see if something might catch between the door and the marble . . .¡± Ward wanted to look down in the pit, but he also didn¡¯t trust all these strangers, so he worked his way toward the wall on his right and sidled up to the ledge, keeping his back flat against the stone, ensuring no one could surreptitiously give him a shove. When he looked over, he saw about twenty feet of marble shaft descending and then nothing but blackness. ¡°Looks deep. Anyone drop a rope down, or a light, even?¡± Ward, of course, only had his one lantern. For a moment, he wondered where he¡¯d dropped his pocket flashlight and figured he must have left it on the ground back on Earth, where he¡¯d almost died. A woman near the center of the tunnel held up a brightly glowing fist, distracting him from his thoughts. ¡°I have glow stones. I¡¯ll drop one!¡± Ward watched as she held her fist out over the pit and let go. Then he blinked as a bright ball of golden light fell downward. It brightened the shadows, exposing more shaft, and descended, seemingly forever, until it was nothing but a tiny, flickering ember swallowed by blackness. ¡°Gods!¡± Haley breathed from beside him. ¡°Yeah. That¡¯s damn deep.¡± Ward had just spoken when a chime rang through the catacombs, echoing off the marble walls, ding. 14. Together 14 ¨C Together ¡°Do something!¡± a man screamed from near the back of the clustered would-be challengers. Someone threw something metallic at the door, and it clanged, bounced off, and spun away down the pit. ¡°Anyone got a bow? Shoot an arrow into it!¡± a woman yelled. Ward thought about it, wondering if maybe the door wasn¡¯t solid copper. Maybe it was only a thin sheet of metal over wood, and the woman¡¯s idea would work. Ding, ding. ¡°Oh, gods!¡± Haley cried, leaning close to the ledge, peering down. Ward gripped her shoulder and edged his back closer to the wall, watching the crowd, expecting someone to do something stupid any second now¡ªhe¡¯d seen plenty of panicking people, and it always got worse in crowds. ¡°Careful,¡± he growled, keeping his voice low and calm. Just then, with a twang and a metallic plink, someone fired an arrow at the door, and it bounced off and up, hitting the marble ceiling and then falling into the shadowy depths below. Ding, ding, ding. ¡°What do we do?¡± a woman wailed. ¡°Hold my rope!¡± Ward watched as the mean-faced warrior-type tied a rope around his waist and then handed the loose end to the people standing nearby. His companion, the one who¡¯d walked with him away from the wounded challengers, was first to grip it, nodding grimly. Ward pulled Haley back beside him against the wall. ¡°This ought to be interesting.¡± Ding, ding, ding, ding. The armor-clad man backed up two steps, then charged forward and leaped at the flat, copper door. Everyone collectively held their breath as he soared over the gap and impacted the metal. Ward hadn¡¯t noticed at first, but he held a gleaming hatchet in his left hand and swung it as he got near, trying to, it seemed, wedge it between the door and the marble. It skittered over the metal surface, failing to find the gap, and the man screamed as he slid down the tarnished copper and fell into the abyss. His friend leaned back, bracing himself, holding the rope. Unfortunately, the other four people holding on weren¡¯t so well prepared, and he caught the brunt of the falling man¡¯s weight by himself. Regardless, his muscles stood out on his forearms and shoulders, and he grunted ferociously as he stopped the man¡¯s descent. He started to slide forward, but the others holding the rope finally caught on and hurried backward, hauling on the tether, alleviating his strain. Ding, ding, ding, ding, ding. The chimes came incessantly now, and Ward knew they were out of time. He looked back down the corridor toward the stairs, wondering what fresh hell would be unleashed. Would it come from the pit? The door? The passageway behind? He got his answer as the chimes stopped sounding, and a gout of flame erupted from the corridor wall back near the entrance. It was like someone with a flamethrower was standing behind the wall, firing it across the corridor, blocking off the exit. ¡°Look!¡± someone screamed. Everyone turned to see the distant flames, and that¡¯s when everyone really started to panic. More and more people threw things at the door, and the guy hanging from the rope screamed to be pulled up. His friend tried to comply, slowly walking backward, hauling on the rope, but when more flames erupted in the tunnel, closer to the end where they all stood, several of his helpers let go of the rope, and he stumbled forward, tripping and sliding toward the edge. Ward leaped away from the wall, intent on helping, reaching for the rope as it slid through the man¡¯s hands, but he was too late; the friend let go, and with an echoing, receding scream, the mean-looking armored man fell into the abyss. ¡°My damn hands!¡± the helper groaned, holding them up, displaying the rope burns. Ward scooted back against the wall, standing with one foot only inches from the abyss. Haley hugged the wall beside him, eyes wide with panic as she watched everyone going into hysterics. Another gout of flame erupted in the corridor, and Ward estimated that each flame jet was about ten feet closer to them. He leaned close to Haley¡¯s ear, speaking softly, ¡°We¡¯ve got about a minute before those flames get to us if they keep getting closer.¡± She looked at him with wide eyes. ¡°What do we do?¡± Ward could barely hear her over the shouts and screams of the others, most of them asking the same question. He thought about it, about the alarm on the stairs, about the consequences of not hurrying. Was this place that cruel? Was it just going to kill them all here? There¡¯d been an easy, straightforward solution to the first alarm¡ªget off the stairs. What about this one? There certainly wasn¡¯t an easy solution, unless jumping into a nigh-endless abyss was it. Ward had good instincts. People always told him that. He had one of the best closure rates in the CID, and his instincts, those same ones that helped him find traffickers and hunt down missing shipments and people, were saying that jumping wasn¡¯t the answer. ¡°Hey!¡± he shouted. Another gout of fire erupted only twenty feet down the hallway, and the screaming panic intensified. ¡°Hey!¡± he shouted again, this time really putting his belly into it. A few people quieted down and looked his way, so he kept yelling, ¡°Listen! Calm the hell down! Just stand still¡ªit¡¯s a test!¡± He felt Haley¡¯s hot fingers grip his wrist, squeezing tight. ¡°A test?¡± someone asked. ¡°Yeah! Just stand still and don¡¯t jump off. This place isn¡¯t going to force us to jump to our death or be cooked. It¡¯s testing our nerve!¡± Ten feet away, another gout of fire erupted with a whoosh, and the hot, billowing air wafted over the group, making Ward¡¯s words hard to swallow. Unfortunately, nobody knew him; nobody knew to trust his gut, and those flames were hot, close, and terrifying. The next jet would be right on them. Ward figured that was why the first person jumped. It was the man who¡¯d burned his hands on the rope trying to save his friend. He just walked up to the edge and stepped off without a sound. This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. ¡°It is a test!¡± another man cried. ¡°It¡¯s testing if we¡¯re brave enough to jump!¡± He, too, leaped off, but he screamed all the way down until his voice grew inaudible. That was the tipping point. As the seconds ticked down, and the next gout of flame was due to burst into life on top of them, first a handful, then a dozen people jumped off the edge. Ward looked down at Haley and saw her eyes were squeezed shut; judging by how tightly she clutched his arm, he didn¡¯t think she was planning to jump. When he lifted his gaze, he saw the woman in green, Lisa, standing against the opposite wall, staring at him with a fierce smile. A man and a woman hugged each other, standing near the pit''s edge. Ward could only see the woman¡¯s face, but she had her eyes closed tight, much like Haley. Another man, youngish, wearing spectacles, sat cross-legged on the marble floor, his hands open on his knees, a serene expression on his face. Was he meditating? Everyone else was gone. The air was hot and dry from the flames, and the threat of one of those terrible jets bursting to life here in this last section before the drop was panic-inducing, but he still couldn¡¯t believe so many had jumped. Ward hoped he was right, hoped he¡¯d at least have a chance to leap off the edge before the fire burned him too badly if he was wrong. Before he could second-guess himself further, just as suddenly as they¡¯d appeared, the flames winked out of existence. A loud click sounded from the copper door, and it descended, opening from the top down and extending over the pit like a narrow, metal bridge. ¡°You were right!¡± Lisa stepped away from the wall and approached the new bridge. ¡°Hold it!¡± Ward held up a hand. He smiled briefly down at Haley, relieved to have her stop squeezing his wrist in a death grip. ¡°Let¡¯s not make a mistake and rush ahead again. I don¡¯t know what triggers those timers, but if there are more of them, let¡¯s make sure we¡¯re all ready to move on together.¡± ¡°And if the bridge closes?¡± Lisa tapped the copper walkway with the toe of her shiny black boot. The two people who¡¯d been hugging separated while Ward and Lisa spoke, and they both moved to the bridge and looked over the sides. ¡°Did . . . did all those people jump to their deaths?¡± ¡°Who¡¯s to say?¡± The young man with the spectacles stood from his meditative pose. ¡°Could be the magic of this place simply teleported them elsewhere.¡± He looked back the way they¡¯d come to where the corpses lay at the foot of the perilous stairway. ¡°Or, they could be dead.¡± He was an interesting character, Ward thought, watching him walk toward the bridge where the other three stood. His head was shaved clean down to the tan flesh of his scalp, and he had a dozen or more blue, wavy arrows tattooed on his scalp. His spectacles shared the same aesthetic as many of the pieces of tech Ward had seen in that world¡ªbrass and glass with a distinctly hand-crafted look. ¡°Well,¡± Ward started forward, checking that Haley was following him, ¡°Lisa may be right. We should cross, I guess.¡± ¡°A wise man.¡± Lisa smirked and started forward, her bootheels clicking and echoing strangely on the metal. Ward wasn¡¯t sure if he liked her, exactly, but he appreciated her waiting long enough to hear his response before starting forward. The two huggers followed behind her and then spectacles. Finally, Ward led Haley across. The doorway opened into another room, this one considerably smaller than the other spaces they¡¯d seen in the catacombs. It was square, with a ceiling only about eight feet high and a dark archway in the center of each wall. A pedestal sat in the center of the space, and atop it was a tarnished copper plaque stamped with text. Ward was still looking around, taking in the room''s layout, when Lisa approached the plaque and read aloud, ¡°No more than three may pass through each doorway.¡± ¡°Ah,¡± the kid with the spectacles said, ¡°the one consistency from the accounts of the catacombs that I¡¯ve studied¡ªthe place has a way of separating people.¡± ¡°And if more than nine of us made it to this room?¡± the other man asked, clasping his companion''s hand. ¡°Then it would be a race!¡± Lisa replied with a chuckle, and Ward began to wonder if her humor was mean-spirited or if she just thought everything was a bit amusing. She looked around at the other five of them, then shrugged. ¡°I¡¯ll be going through the center doorway. Feel free to follow if you¡¯d like.¡± Ward opened his mouth to say something but paused. He didn¡¯t know what to say; the only word on the tip of his tongue was ¡°wait,¡± so he just let it die, pressing his lips closed. Lisa stepped through the central archway, and it seemed to pulse with faint gray light, then fade to black again. He kind of wanted to follow her because she seemed the most capable or at least the most confident of the people he¡¯d met, but the man and woman holding hands hurried after her. The archway flashed two more times, and when it faded, nothing but a smooth stone wall remained. ¡°They were quick to follow the moonstone.¡± The young man with the glasses turned and looked at Ward and Haley, then back at the two remaining archways. ¡°Moonstone?¡± Ward asked before he could stop to think about how it might make him look. Haley answered, ¡°Because of her eyes and their soft white glow. Some people label them that way¡ªI mean, on Cinder, well, probably the whole of Vainglory. I could tell you were from off-world. Do they have a different name where you¡¯re from?¡± Ward thought about it briefly, then said, ¡°Yeah, on my home world, they just call ¡®em wizards and witches and whatnot.¡± He nodded and folded his arms, stepping back and looking from Haley to the young man. ¡°I¡¯m Ward, by the way. Do you all want to try to stick together?¡± He pushed his glasses up on the bridge of his nose. ¡°I¡¯m Nevkin.¡± ¡°Haley.¡± Nevkin nodded. ¡°I saw you at the ceremony. From Tarnish, hmm? Sorry about your brother''s fate.¡± He looked at Ward. ¡°I would like to try to travel with you both, but we should all be cognizant of the fact that these ancient tunnels and vaults will likely try to separate us or even pit us against each other.¡± ¡°I was thinking about that.¡± Haley¡¯s voice was soft, and her eyes were downcast, probably upset at the mention of her brother. ¡°What the other man asked¡ªif more than nine people had made it to this room, it may have gotten bloody.¡± Ward nodded. ¡°Yeah, I had the same thought.¡± His arms were still crossed, and the lump of his .357 under his hand was comforting as his mind went down dark paths. ¡°So?¡± Nevkin gestured left and right, from one archway to the other. He was wearing a small, circular leather pack, a thick gray, poncho-like garment, and pants that reminded Ward of the cowboys'' jeans in old movies. His narrow boots looked sturdy, and overall, Ward had the feeling the kid was pretty capable. He looked at Haley, wondering if she had an opinion, but she was staring at the far wall where Lisa and the others had gone, her eyes unfocused. He figured she was probably still dwelling on her brother. ¡°I don¡¯t know. Flip a coin?¡± ¡°Sure.¡± Nevkin reached into a pocket under his poncho and pulled out a silver glory. ¡°Face or number?¡± ¡°Face,¡± Haley mumbled, then shook her head, snapping out of her trance. ¡°Wait, it doesn¡¯t matter; if I¡¯m right, what way will we go?¡± Nevkin shrugged, flipped the coin with ping, and snatched it out of the air, slapping it onto the back of his hand. Before he uncovered it, he asked, ¡°If it¡¯s face, we go right, number we go left?¡± ¡°Sounds good.¡± Ward stepped forward to witness the coin¡¯s reveal. Nevkin lifted away his hand, and there, Ward saw the coin with its prominent X on display. ¡°Left it is.¡± He walked over to the archway and tried to peer into the darkness, but just as the light in the room they stood in had no source, the darkness seemed utterly devoid of it. ¡°I¡¯ll go first.¡± ¡°Wait!¡± Haley hurried forward and reached out to take his hand. ¡°Together.¡± Nevkin shrugged and sauntered over, taking Haley¡¯s other hand. ¡°Together, then.¡± 15. Encounter 15 - Encounter The room Ward stepped into was starkly different from the one he¡¯d left. It was so distinct that he began to wonder if the archway had teleported him somehow. He wasn¡¯t sure, though, because he still felt Haley¡¯s hand in his as he stepped into the new space. They stood atop a grand, curved walkway carved from dark gray stone¡ªbasalt or granite, if Ward were guessing. It swept downward with a steep grade, veering off to his left and curving toward a distant stone square surrounded by shimmering silver-blue water. It felt like the platform they stood on was hundreds of feet in the air, but Ward couldn¡¯t see the walls or the ceiling. They were either impossibly distant or hidden by the catacombs¡¯ ability to manipulate light. ¡°All I can see are the walkway and the stone platform below.¡± Haley walked toward the edge, looking down. Ward moved close, worried she¡¯d get vertigo and fall over. ¡°Easy. Let¡¯s lose some altitude.¡± Something itched in his gut, and Ward reached up to pull his .357 out of its holster. ¡°A pistol?¡± Nevkin chuckled, drawing a short, thin, flexible sword from the hard wooden sheath he had strapped to his pack. Ward had seen it but thought it was a walking stick. ¡°Rather crude, don¡¯t you think?¡± ¡°You think a pistol is crude?¡± ¡°All that black smoke . . .¡± Haley nodded to Nevkin, wrinkling her nose at Ward. He was going to protest but figured it didn¡¯t matter¡ªthese kids didn¡¯t need to know what he was packing. He grunted and shrugged. ¡°What about you?¡± ¡°Me? I¡¯m a Gopah red adept.¡± ¡°Excuse you?¡± Ward stared at her, face blank. ¡°Gopah? The art of the fire fist?¡± Ward narrowed his eyes, but then he remembered they were in a world of magic. ¡°Is that why your hands are so hot?¡± She ducked her head, blushing, and softly muttered, ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°Fair enough.¡± Ward started down the sloping stone walkway, taking his time, testing his footing, ensuring he didn¡¯t slip; there wasn¡¯t any railing to save him from missteps. While they made slow, steady progress down, he asked, over his shoulder, ¡°Is red adept high? In my world, we have different colored belts for martial arts, and usually black belt is the highest.¡± Nevkin spoke up for Haley, ¡°A red adept has mastered six of the eleven Gopah forms. A black adept has mastered nine. If you¡¯re unfamiliar with Gopah, you should know that Haley has accomplished a tremendous feat by reaching the red adept level at her age.¡± ¡°Well, shit. Nice going, Haley!¡± ¡°Thank you.¡± She still sounded down, and Ward couldn¡¯t blame her. He¡¯d have a hard time getting over the death of a brother, especially with only an hour or so having passed. Trying to help her take her mind off her loss, he asked, ¡°If a black adept isn¡¯t the best, what do you call those who¡¯ve mastered all eleven forms?¡± Nevkin started to answer, but Haley cut him off, ¡°One with ten forms mastered is a sky adept, and one with eleven is a soul adept. The sky encompasses all colors, and the soul encompasses all existence.¡± ¡°That¡¯s . . . poetic. I like the idea, Haley.¡± Ward was trying hard to be encouraging, but he supposed he really did like the sound of it. They walked in silence for a couple more minutes, then rounded the last curve, and the stone platform was before them, only a dozen yards or so further on. At this level, Ward could plainly see the weird silvery-blue water, and he paused to marvel at how it shimmered with color, almost like gasoline in sunlight. ¡°What the hell is that liquid?¡± ¡°Looks like pearl water.¡± Nevkin stretched an arm down over the side of the walkway and dipped the tip of his little sword into it. When he lifted it out, the silvery water ran slowly down the blade, thick as syrup. ¡°Yep, pearl water.¡± ¡°So, you both know I¡¯m not from here. What¡¯s pearl water?¡± Nevkin shook his sword over the water, sending most of the liquid coating it to splash down into the pool. ¡°A naturally occurring liquid found deep in the ground here on Cinder. It¡¯s very flammable and a potent catalyst in alchemical mixtures.¡± ¡°We should take some. I have a spare bottle,¡± Haley added. ¡°All right. Let¡¯s check out this platform first.¡± Ward started forward, scanning the big stone square ahead for anything noteworthy. Now that they were closer, he could see it wasn¡¯t one cohesive piece of stone but thousands of blocks nearly seamlessly fit together. The platform was almost level with the darkness-shrouded pool; if it were a quarter-inch lower, it would be flooded. Looking out over that water, Ward once again felt frustrated by the use of light and shadow to, quite literally, keep them in the dark. He could only see the first ten feet of shimmering, silver-blue liquid in any direction. Haley stepped onto the platform with him and gestured toward the walkway they¡¯d just descended. ¡°Where are we supposed to go from here? I don¡¯t see other walkways.¡± ¡°No, I imagine another challenge is here.¡± Nevkin pushed past her and walked further onto the platform, eyes down, studying the stone blocks. Rather than walk to the middle like Nevkin, Ward turned to the left and scrutinized the perimeter. ¡°Either of you have any of those, um, glow stones, like the one that girl dropped into the pit?¡± ¡°I have a few.¡± Haley looked at Ward, then at the water, then back to him. ¡°Why? You don¡¯t want to drop one in the pearl water!¡± ¡°Oh? They can spark it?¡± ¡°The mana that makes them glow is volatile. It could react with the pearl water. It¡¯s a catalyst, remember?¡± Nevkin pushed his glasses up while he spoke, and Ward had to fight the urge to say something snarky to him. ¡°I was wondering what¡¯s behind all these shadows. Wish I had my flashlight.¡± Ward took his pack off and dug around, looking for the crank lantern he¡¯d taken from the scavs. He was looking at it, fiddling with the crank, trying to unstick it from the little clip holding it in place, when he heard a soft splash and a slap, like someone hopping out of a pool. For some reason, it didn¡¯t register in his mind as anything to worry about; it was an almost innocuous sound, and he figured Nevkin or Haley were somehow messing around with the water. For that reason, he was holding his pistol awkwardly, cranking the little brass lever on the lamp, when Haley screamed. The sound startled Ward into dropping the lamp, and it bounced off the top of his pack to clatter on the stone, one glass panel shattering on impact. He felt irritated rather than alarmed when he looked up. Expecting to see Haley had fallen into the water or something, he was almost dumbstruck when he saw something like a humanoid, blue and yellow frog grasping her hair, dragging her backward toward the pearl water. ¡°Boggert!¡± Nevkin wailed, spinning away from Haley¡¯s plight to scan the water. Ward was a little stunned by the appearance of a five-foot-tall, upright frog man, dazed by the weird, shimmering nature of its flesh and its bulging neon-yellow eyes. He snapped out of it when Haley screamed again, struggling to reach back and slap the thing¡¯s webbed fingers from where they were entwined in her short black hair. Suddenly, his nerves settled, and he lifted his pistol and embraced that familiar cool detachment he always felt in a crisis. Ward didn¡¯t need to aim to hit a target ten feet away. He pointed and squeezed the trigger in one smooth, fluid motion and, with a thunderous, echoing retort, sent a .357 hollow-point into the bulging, throbbing blue and yellow neck of the frog monster. The frog man, or boggert, if that¡¯s what they were called, croaked resoundingly, spraying green-yellow blood or bile out of its wide mouth, and fell to the stone, flopping and thrashing as it slapped its webbed hands against the hole in its neck. With a wail of horrified disgust, Haley rolled away from it and back onto her feet. Ward turned to frown at Nevkin, ready to chew the kid out for turning his back on Haley¡¯s trouble, but then he heard bubbling and splashing, and suddenly, the platform was awash with the shimmering pearl water as a dozen or more of the boggerts burst out of the liquid. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website. ¡°Get to the center!¡± Ward barked. ¡°Back-to-back!¡± He led by example, hurrying away from the edge and toward the middle of the platform, shoving Haley into motion as he passed by. He was almost too slow¡ªthe boggerts were quick. They charged forward, webbed hands raised, needle-sharp claws extended. The three of them just barely got to the center and faced outward, and then the creatures were on them, leaping, clawing, and burbling their weird language or growls¡ªWard had no idea how intelligent they were. Their claws were transparent keratin, deceptively long and terribly sharp, and they left long, painful gashes as they tore through Ward¡¯s sleeves and pantlegs. Even under such pressure¡ªsurrounded, painfully gashed, and bleeding, Ward kept his cool and began to take aim, squeezing the trigger once, twice, three times, spraying hot, green-yellow boggert blood all over the platform, sending his assailants flopping to the stones. With no more before him, Ward whirled to see Haley smash a fist into a boggert¡¯s bulbous throat. Sparks flew from the impact, and with a whoosh, the frog man burst into flames, hooting and burping as it fell to the ground. Ward saw the little pools of pearl water on the platform burst into flames as the dying boggert rolled through them, and he wondered what would happen if it rolled all the way into the larger pool. Rather than find out, he stepped forward and smashed his leather shoe into the center of its back, holding it still while it thrashed and died. It only took a few seconds for the flames to die, or he might have caught his pants on fire for his trouble. Even so, he backed away, slapping at his pantleg as he watched Nevkin fend off several boggerts, whipping his sharp, flexible little blade in quick sweeps and stabs. The creatures were bleeding from several slashes and stabs, but so was Nevkin; his poncho was ripped and bloody, especially on his right shoulder. Ward lifted his pistol, taking aim at another boggert pressuring Haley, but he got distracted, watching her do something that looked very much like dancing. She stepped in a rhythmic pattern, weaving her hands in odd loops and thrusts, and as she did so, he saw the air around her fists grow wavy with heat. ¡°What the hell?¡± he wondered as he pointed his gun at one of the boggerts and squeezed off his fifth bullet. The bullet tore through its head, sending it flopping backward, and the explosion startled the other boggert, distracting it just in time for Haley to drive a sparking, red-hot fist into its ribs, shattering bones with a loud crunch. It fell, gasping, and Ward sheathed his pistol¡ªtime to get his hands dirty. It wasn¡¯t that he couldn¡¯t have shot more of the monsters, but one was down, and only three remained, pressuring Nevkin; why waste the bullets? Ward yanked his big knife out of its sheath and edged around Nevkin, taking the frogs¡¯ flank. They were intent on Nevkin, perhaps enraged by the many minor wounds he¡¯d given them. Ward had no trouble getting behind, where he picked the leftmost boggert, leaped forward, and drove his eight-inch knife into the center of its back. He grunted savagely, yanking the knife out, stabbing it home again, and smashing the creature to the ground. Unfortunately, stabbing so savagely brought him down with momentum, and he felt the sting of four more gashes on his back as one of the surviving boggerts clawed him. Ward rolled over his left shoulder, following through in a somersault onto his feet. He spun just in time to see Nevkin thrust his narrow blade up, through a boggert throat, and, likely, all the way into its brain. Haley was doing her weird dance again, and Ward could see her fists begin to glow as they emitted waves of shimmering heat. With Nevkin distracting the last creature, she effortlessly danced forward and drove her fist into its lower back, eliciting a dreadful croak and sparking the monster alight just like the first one she¡¯d punched. As it wailed, thrashed, and swung its arms wildly, Nevkin drove his rapier forward, ending its death throes. ¡°Holy shit!¡± Ward laughed, wiping his knife on his pant leg before sheathing it. He yanked his gun out of its holster and began reloading it. After he¡¯d reholstered it, he took stock of the bullets in his pocket¡ªonly seven live ones left. ¡°Dammit, but these gashes sting. Those little bastards had sharp claws.¡± While he¡¯d been reloading, Haley had slipped her backpack off and was digging around inside. ¡°I have some salve that will help.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll be fine. I have my own.¡± Nevkin, too, was going through his little round backpack. ¡°Yeah, I don¡¯t. Probably would¡¯ve been a good thing to pick up before coming in here.¡± Ward chuckled at himself, shaking his head. ¡°I don¡¯t think I realized ¡®challenge¡¯ and ¡®catacombs¡¯ meant fighting damn frogmen.¡± Nevkin scoffed. ¡°Do they know so little of the challenges in your world?¡± ¡°Yeah, I guess that¡¯s how I¡¯d put it.¡± Ward chose a relatively clean spot on the stone ground and sat, feeling a little woozy. While he watched Haley and Nevkin work on their own wounds, he had to blink and do a double-take when he realized Grace was standing beside him. ¡°I don¡¯t think either of these two can see me. I don¡¯t see so much as a glimmer of a shine in their eyes. Isn¡¯t it interesting how your friend there could ignite her fists? It has to be different from what a, um, sorcerer can do.¡± It wasn¡¯t lost on Ward that she¡¯d used Lisa¡¯s term. She squatted in front of Ward and frowned when he ignored her. He didn¡¯t care; he wasn¡¯t going to let her make him look like a lunatic. ¡°Are you okay? Those creatures were filthy, and their claws were deceptively long.¡± ¡°I think I¡¯ll live.¡± ¡°Good¡ª¡± Grace started to say, but Haley spoke over her, unknowingly. ¡°You will. You should still take some of my salve because those boggerts are known to carry disease.¡± ¡°Thanks.¡± Ward leaned his head between his knees and pinched the bridge of his nose. He felt like he was getting a headache. ¡°Shit, Ward!¡± Grace leaned close and pressed a hand to the back of his neck. ¡°You¡¯re burning up! Your shirt¡¯s soaked in blood, more red than white. Did you even buy a clean change of clothes before coming in here?¡± ¡°Maybe if you¡ª¡± Ward was about to start complaining about how little Grace had spoken to him while he¡¯d been in Tarnish, but then he remembered two near-strangers were also listening to him. He altered course. ¡°Uh, maybe I could get you to put some of that on my back? I feel like the claws got me the deepest there.¡± ¡°Of course. It¡¯s the least I can do; you killed the lion''s share of those filthy creatures. Almost done here.¡± ¡°I know what you¡¯re thinking; I should have spoken to you more, helped you prepare more. I¡¯m sorry, Ward. I¡¯m not used to being in a world where there are people powerful enough to see me, to . . . threaten me.¡± Ward, head still between his knees, eyes pointed down, could just see Grace¡¯s bare foot beside him, so he reached out and patted it rather than answer her. ¡°Does that mean you forgive me?¡± Ward grunted. In truth, he was just trying to get her to shut up. He was trying to rest his eyes and fend off his budding headache. He heard Haley stand up and approach, but then Nevkin cried out, ¡°Look!¡± Ward popped his eyes open and jerked his head up, reaching for his pistol. His alarm was for naught; Nevkin pointed away from the platform to a set of round stepping stones that seemed to have risen out of the shimmering water. They led away, tiny islands of illumination in the clinging darkness, toward a distant wall and another platform where a copper door awaited them. ¡°Does this mean we passed this challenge? I think I see something on the platform!¡± ¡°Wait, Nevkin!¡± Haley patted Ward¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Let me get some of this salve on Ward¡¯s wounds.¡± She tugged at the strap of his shoulder holster. ¡°Can you take this off?¡± Ward nodded and loosened the holster, shrugging it off, then he grunted and reached up to unbutton his shirt. He winced as he had to peel it off. The blood-soaked material stuck to his wounds. ¡°Known her for a couple of hours, and she¡¯s already got you taking your clothes off?¡± Grace paced in front of him, watching Haley¡¯s every move. He wondered if she was jealous or worried or both, but something was going on with her. ¡°I see something there!¡± Nevkin edged closer to the first of the new, circular stepping stones. Ward looked up with a scowl. ¡°If you step out there ahead of us, I¡¯ll shoot you.¡± Nevkin whirled, narrowing his eyes at Ward, his tattooed head growing red as he flushed with either anger or embarrassment. ¡°You dare threaten me?¡± ¡°Look, kid, I just don¡¯t want me and Haley to get killed ¡®cause you activate some kind of timer. Just be still a minute. Ahh¡ª¡± Ward winced, lifting his shoulders involuntarily as Haley put some salve on the deep claw marks on his back. It stung at first but almost immediately made his flesh numb. Nevkin didn¡¯t reply but continued to pace, and Ward could see the storm clouds in his scowl. ¡°Boy, that made him angry!¡± Grace laughed. Ward ignored her. ¡°That¡¯s feeling a lot better, Haley.¡± ¡°Well, you¡¯re healing quickly. These cuts seem uninfected, and you¡¯ve developed some tough scabs. Your body is strong¡ªmust be the mana. I wish I could work with it.¡± ¡°Well, how the hell do you make your fists so hot?¡± ¡°It¡¯s the art. Gopah. The movements speak to the ambient mana, focusing it into the styles.¡± ¡°Fascinating!¡± Grace interjected. ¡°It¡¯s like the movements are visual, nay, physical words of power!¡± ¡°Pretty neat stuff, Haley.¡± ¡°Thank you. You¡¯re looking good; I think I got all the deep ones.¡± ¡°I¡¯m feeling a lot better already, thanks.¡± Ward grunted as he clambered to his feet and began shrugging into his ripped, bloody shirt. ¡°Almost ready, Nev. Thanks for waiting.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t call me that. It¡¯s my old master¡¯s pet name for me, and I don¡¯t like it.¡± ¡°Understood,¡± Ward chuckled, shaking his head. He shrugged into his shoulder holster and, looking to see Haley was following, started for the first stepping stone. ¡°We ready?¡± ¡°Onward, at last!¡± Nevkin said, hopping across the short distance to the stone. Ward winced, expecting to see it sink or tip or something else equally disastrous. Nevkin¡¯s luck held, though, and he landed solidly. ¡°I¡¯ll jump to the next, then one of you follow. We¡¯ll just take one at a time, quickly, okay?¡± ¡°Yep, hustle.¡± Ward turned to Haley. ¡°You¡¯re next.¡± ¡°Okay.¡± She nodded, face serious, and hopped to the stone as Nevkin advanced. Ward was just getting ready to jump when Nevkin cried out, his voice cracking as it rose an octave, ¡°It¡¯s a chest! There¡¯s a chest by the door!¡± 16. First Loot 16 ¨C First Loot To Ward¡¯s relief, the pedestals didn¡¯t sink, and no chimes began to sound as they made their way over the shimmering water to the platform with the door and the square copper box. Nevkin was the first there, naturally, and Ward was contemplating threatening him again so he wouldn¡¯t open anything ahead of his arrival, but the young man restrained himself, pacing back and forth before the box, or ¡°chest,¡± as he kept calling it. Haley hopped onto the platform and turned to watch Ward make his last two jumps, and then they all stood there, looking down at the inscribed metal of the shoe-box-sized container. ¡°So, you guys reckon this is a good thing, right?¡± ¡°Of course they do.¡± Ward flinched at the sound of Grace¡¯s voice right behind him. He¡¯d almost forgotten about her in the process of hopping across the water. ¡°Are you all right?¡± Haley asked, noticing his spasm. ¡°Fine.¡± Ward looked over his shoulder with a scowl. ¡°Had a chill run down my spine.¡± He stepped forward between the two smaller individuals and squatted to get a better look at the box. ¡°So, what¡¯s the deal here? We just open it? You don¡¯t figure it¡¯s rigged to blow up or something, do you?¡± ¡°The accounts I¡¯ve studied don¡¯t generally indicate trapped rewards.¡± Nevkin leaned closer to the box, staring at it through his spectacles. ¡°I don¡¯t see anything funny about it,¡± Grace interjected, stepping around Nevkin to stand beside the box, resting one bare foot against the left-hand edge. Ward tried to ignore her. ¡°I¡¯ll open it.¡± Nevkin sounded a little too enthusiastic, and Ward¡¯s inherent suspicion, honed from interrogating hundreds of suspects over the years, was piqued. ¡°Some reason you want to?¡± He glanced at Haley to see her face while he spoke, and she frowned and nodded. ¡°Well,¡± Nevkin began, drawing the word out. ¡°Sometimes there isn¡¯t enough of a reward for everyone who happens upon a chest to share. Sometimes there¡¯s only one item.¡± At Ward¡¯s glower, he hastily added, ¡°Sometimes there are many!¡± Haley folded her arms and stepped closer. ¡°Didn¡¯t Ward do most of the killing in this room?¡± ¡°I knew I liked her!¡± Grace smiled and moved around behind Haley. ¡°I could hug her, even!¡± Nevkin, likewise, folded his arms and drew his eyebrows together in a scowl. He stepped back, though, and muttered, ¡°If you want to risk a trap, fine, you open it.¡± ¡°Oh? Now there¡¯s a trap?¡± Ward chuckled, then made a shooing motion. ¡°Back up, then. Don¡¯t worry, I won¡¯t snatch whatever¡¯s in there.¡± When the two had moved back to the platform''s edge, he leaned forward again, flipped the little latch up, and lifted the lid. Grace leaned forward, blocking his view, and he almost cussed at her. ¡°Ah! Boring, but useful!¡± ¡°Well?¡± Nevkin hurried forward. ¡°I¡¯m not sure.¡± Ward shoved Grace aside and looked in the little box. A vial of sparkling red liquid sat nestled among fifteen or so precious-looking stones. Next to the potion was a plump, blue-stained leather pouch. ¡°Some gems, a potion, I guess, and a pouch. Ward reached in and lifted out the bag, surprised by the hefty weight. Whatever was inside was hard and round, making him imagine a baseball-sized marble or crystal ball. ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± Haley asked. ¡°Not sure. Relax, folks. Let¡¯s all take a seat, and I¡¯ll put all the stuff on top of the box, and we can look at everything together, okay?¡± ¡°Sounds fair.¡± Haley plopped down and crossed her legs. Nevkin hadn¡¯t spoken yet, but he¡¯d glanced into the box, and some excitement had left his face. Ward had the feeling he was hoping for something specific and saw it wasn¡¯t there. Ward scooped up the gems and potion, then closed the box and set everything atop it as he¡¯d promised. The gems were all different colors, but none were polished or cut. Ward could hardly tell a cut crystal from a diamond, so he sure didn¡¯t think he could appraise them. ¡°Either of you know much about gemstones?¡± ¡°A little.¡± Nevkin looked at Haley to see if she¡¯d speak up, but she shook her head. ¡°I can tell that those two¡ªthe blue ones¡ªare uncut sapphires. They¡¯re probably worth a lot. The red one, too, is worth a pretty glory; I think it¡¯s a ruby. The rest look like they¡¯re rose quartz and agate. ¡°Easy enough. I¡¯ll grab a blue one. Nevkin, you want blue or red?¡± ¡°Red.¡± ¡°Okay, here you go, and a blue for Haley. Then we each get three of the others.¡± Ward counted them out. ¡°Fair enough?¡± ¡°Fair.¡± Haley opened her pack and stuffed the gems away. Ward did the same. Then he turned back to the other two objects. He picked up the thumb-sized vial of sparkling red liquid. Holding it, he realized something was inscribed in the glass. He tilted it left and right, trying to catch more light on the letters so he could read what they said. ¡°Huh. I think it says ¡®restorative.¡¯ Haley, you have a look.¡± Ward passed it over to her. He was sure he was right but wanted to include the others. ¡°I agree. This must be a healing potion!¡± ¡°Ward should take it,¡± Nevkin said, and Ward narrowed his eyes at him. The kid was playing a game; he was sure of it. Generous now, so when they find the thing he wants, he could claim it? ¡°Are you thinking what I¡¯m thinking?¡± Grace whispered in his ear, sending a cold shiver down his spine. ¡°Nah, you take it, Nevkin.¡± He glanced at Haley and winked, and she shrugged and held it out to the kid. ¡°No, no. I must insist one of you take it. I have plenty of healing salve.¡± This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Haley sighed and held it out to Ward. He tried to think of an argument but decided to give in; he was the only one without any sort of first aid gear. ¡°All right.¡± He took it, pressed down on the wax-sealed cork to ensure it was secure, and then stuffed it into his pocket. Finally, he picked up the blue leather pouch and loosened the drawstring. ¡°It¡¯s heavy.¡± He grinned at Haley and Nevkin, taking his time and building the anticipation. Grace nudged him with her foot, pressing her manicured, painted toes into his ribs. ¡°You must have been a joy to watch at your birthday parties.¡± ¡°Hush!¡± Ward growled softly, working the pouch all the way open and tilting it so he could roll the heavy ball out into his palm. Haley flinched back. ¡°I didn¡¯t say anything!¡± ¡°Nah, not you. Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯m just talking to myself.¡± The ball that rolled into his hand wasn¡¯t what he¡¯d imagined. It wasn¡¯t glass or crystal, and it wasn¡¯t colorful¡ªit looked and felt a heck of a lot like a ball of lead. ¡°Huh. Not very pretty.¡± ¡°What is it?¡± Haley stretched out a slender finger to touch the metal, pressing hard against it, so Ward had to compensate by pushing upward with his hand. ¡°It feels like lead!¡± ¡°Not much of a prize.¡± Nevkin stood up, shaking his head in disappointment. ¡°Perhaps it awarded you more metal to make bullets.¡± ¡°It?¡± Ward looked up from his ball of cold metal. Nevkin sighed. ¡°I don¡¯t know. The chest? The catacombs? Whatever intelligence or spirit the creators instilled within it?¡± ¡°Nobody knows, Ward.¡± Haley stood up, brushing her leather pants. ¡°Don¡¯t go melting that ball down anytime soon,¡± Grace said. ¡°I think there¡¯s more to it than these two can fathom. More than you can, too. Why would a ball of lead be in such a nice little pouch?¡± ¡°Yeah, I was thinking the same.¡± Ward stuffed the ball into the blue pouch and then found a spot for it in his pack. Haley looked at him, eyes narrowed in puzzlement. ¡°Thinking the same? Oh, that no one knows?¡± ¡°Right, Haley, right.¡± Ward lifted his pack, put his arms through the straps, and then regarded the copper door in the wall. ¡°Guess we¡¯re going through there next.¡± He stepped forward, nudging past Nevkin, and examined the handle. It was a simple copper lever, tarnished and green, beckoning him to press down upon it. He reached out his hand, then paused and looked at Nevkin and Haley, pointedly ignoring Grace as she paced behind the young woman. ¡°Any objections?¡± ¡°None.¡± Nevkin shook his head. Haley mimicked the gesture but didn¡¯t speak. ¡°Here we go.¡± Ward placed his palm on the cool, moist metal and pressed down. It ratcheted smoothly, and the door pulled away from the wall, revealing a dimly illuminated stone corridor with a downward slope. ¡°I¡¯ll take the lead if you wouldn¡¯t mind.¡± Nevkin stepped forward. ¡°I¡¯m rather skilled at noticing irregularities that might hint at a trap.¡± ¡°By all means.¡± Ward watched him enter the tunnel, and then Haley stepped past him and followed. ¡°Guess I¡¯ll bring up the rear.¡± ¡°Is something bothering you?¡± Grace was the only one to hear his muttered comment. ¡°Nah.¡± Despite his denial, Ward scowled as he glared at Grace. She might want to pretend their disagreement the previous night had never happened, but he was still quite sore about the state of his soul. ¡°Why are you whispering? Oh! You don¡¯t want your new friends to think you¡¯ve gone mad?¡± Again, Ward didn¡¯t answer. ¡°It won¡¯t matter in a few hours or days. Either they¡¯ll be dead, or you will be, or you¡¯ll be separated by the cruel mechanics of this place. I know I sound like a downer, Ward, but I didn¡¯t know the catacombs would be like this. You have to believe me, okay?¡± She reached up, grabbing hold of some loose tatters of his blood-stained, no-longer-white shirt. ¡°God! Those things really sliced you up! I can¡¯t believe I didn¡¯t talk to you about buying some new clothes or maybe some armor. You know I¡¯m new to all this, too, right? I¡¯ll do better going forward.¡± ¡°If we live,¡± Ward hissed. He¡¯d been taking slow steps, falling a good deal behind the other two, with no end to the long corridor in sight. ¡°You¡¯re going to live, Ward! Believe in yourself.¡± Ward frowned at her, contemplating a snarky response, but decided it wasn¡¯t worth the effort. Instead, he picked up the pace and drew near Haley again. ¡°Long hallway.¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± Haley turned to smile at him, nodding. ¡°Ward, do you have many cartridges for that pistol of yours? That¡¯s quite a sophisticated piece.¡± Nevkin paused, leaning against the wall, awaiting Ward¡¯s response. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯ve got a few. Glad you approve.¡± ¡°I think he¡¯s used to the type of guns people on Cinder usually carry. They¡¯re not so effective.¡± Haley slipped her pack off and dug around until she lifted out a big, round canteen. She sipped at it, making Ward suddenly thirsty. He licked his lips but didn¡¯t give in; he only had a single copper bottle of water, which made him wonder just what the hell he¡¯d been thinking. The truth was, he hadn¡¯t worried too much about the ¡°catacombs.¡± He¡¯d had some major misconceptions, starting with expecting to be able to bail out if he wanted to. ¡°Nevkin, you seem to have studied these challenges a lot. You think we¡¯re very far in?¡± ¡°Well . . .¡± He pushed his glasses up on his nose, then wiped the sweat on his tattooed brow. ¡°We¡¯ve passed four obstacles if you count the stairway turning into a pitfall.¡± ¡°The stairway, the fire jets, the doors only allowing three people to pass, and the boggerts.¡± Haley counted down on her fingers while she listed them off. ¡°Right. Accounts of the Tarnish Catacombs I¡¯ve read seem to indicate that an exit might present itself anywhere after your fifth obstacle, depending on the path you take. It¡¯s all, of course, dependent on what the catacombs offer you. One man swore he¡¯d circumvented thirty obstacles before he found an exit.¡± He straightened and started forward again. ¡°Let¡¯s keep moving.¡± ¡°You¡¯ve got a good work ethic, kid.¡± Ward nodded and straightened from where he¡¯d been leaning on the wall. He glanced over his shoulder, wondering why Grace hadn¡¯t been sniping at him, but she wasn¡¯t anywhere in sight. Was she just back in his head, or could she wander off? Again, Ward shook his head, annoyed with himself for not yet covering basic details like that with her. He had to remind himself to cut himself some slack¡ªshe was the one who kept interrupting their conversations every time they started getting good. ¡°I am a hard worker, but this is more about not wanting to die. I¡¯d rather get through this corridor before the catacombs decide we¡¯ve been here too long.¡± ¡°He makes a good point!¡± Haley hurried after him. Ward kept pace, mentally creating a checklist of things he wanted to talk to Grace about the next time they were alone. He wished he had a piece of paper and something to write with. ¡°Is paper uncommon in this world?¡± ¡°Hmm?¡± Haley looked back at him. ¡°No, not at all.¡± ¡°Good.¡± Ward was definitely going to do some shopping the next time he was in town. ¡°I see a door!¡± Nevkin called, and Haley and Ward hurried to keep up with him. When they all stood before another copper door, much like the one they¡¯d come through, Nevkin gently tapped it with his knuckles. ¡°That was a long corridor with no trap or fight. I have a bad feeling that things won¡¯t be so peaceful on the other side of this door.¡± With that, he drew his little rapier and regarded Ward and Haley. ¡°I guess there¡¯s no going back.¡± Ward drew his pistol with his right hand and yanked his big bowie knife from its sheath with his left, holding it ready. ¡°Let me charge my fists.¡± Haley stepped back and began to do her weird fast-motion Tai-chi dance, and Ward watched, amazed, as her knuckles began to redden and palpable waves of heat radiated from them. After a few seconds, she nodded, holding her vibrating fists in a boxer¡¯s guard. ¡°Ready!¡± ¡°Here we go!¡± Nevkin reached with his free hand and pulled the door open. 17. Unexpected Reunion 17 ¨C Unexpected Reunion When they stepped through the copper door, they found themselves in a circular, stone-walled room with a slightly vaulted ceiling. Nothing remarkable was in the smooth basalt space other than the two men sitting near the center. They both wore armor made of chain links over leather clothing, and Ward recognized them immediately as the men he''d had words with earlier near the entrance. Of course, this came as a bit of a surprise¡ªhe¡¯d thought both of them had fallen to their deaths. ¡°But¡ª¡± Nevkin started to say, stepping forward, only to be interrupted by the first of the men, the rough-faced fellow with a dark beard and hard eyes. ¡°Well! Finally, some company. How¡¯d you get in here?¡± Nevkin turned toward Haley and Ward, looking toward the doorway they¡¯d just come through, but his face took on a puzzled expression. Following his gaze, Ward turned to see a smooth stone wall; the copper door was gone. ¡°It¡¯s g-gone,¡± Nevkin stammered. Ward sighed and stepped past him, sizing up the two men and looking them over. He saw some bandages around the second man¡¯s wrist, some rips in his clothes¡ªthey¡¯d been through something. The first man, the mean, decisive one, looked pretty healthy, and his thick, meaty arm kept flexing slightly, bringing his palm against the handle of a broad-bladed axe hanging at his waist. ¡°We came through a door.¡± Ward moved closer to the two men, still gripping his pistol in one hand, his knife in the other. He wasn¡¯t a psycho; he had no intention of jumping the two guys, but he also didn¡¯t trust a damn thing about the catacombs, and he¡¯d seen these two fellows drop thousands of feet into an endless abyss. ¡°What¡¯s your story, boys? Didn¡¯t you fall to the center of the planet?¡± ¡°Nah, it looked like that,¡± the guy still sitting on the floor said¡ªthe one with smooth cheeks and a little friendliness in his eyes. ¡°We both ended up falling into a pool of icy water. We had to swim up to a ledge and then got jumped by¡ª¡± ¡°Karl, they don¡¯t want to hear our life story,¡± the mean one growled. ¡°So, a door, huh? Well, you can see we ain¡¯t leaving through no door.¡± He swung his hand around in a circle, indicating the smooth stone blocks lining the entirety of the room. ¡°Yeah. Unfortunate.¡± Ward let his eyes drift around the space and over the two men as he slowly advanced, edging his way to the far side of the room, wondering what was going on. Were the catacombs trying to pit them against each other? Unlike the room with doors that would only allow three to leave, he didn¡¯t see a sign or plaque or anything like that. If some kind of challenge was occurring, he didn¡¯t know what it was. He could see the mean guy slowly letting his gaze drift from Haley to Nevkin and back again. What was he thinking about? Ward was pretty good at reading people, and, to him, it looked like he was contemplating murder. ¡°The hell is going on here?¡± The guy on the floor, Karl, looked at Ward and smiled while arching an eyebrow. ¡°Hmm?¡± Ward had known plenty of criminals in his day and knew damn well that there were all kinds. There were the overt, violent types, like the guy pacing around, hand twitching and tapping his axe, sending hungry glances at Haley and Nevkin. Then there were the scheming, friendly types who liked to lure people in, get ¡®em comfortable, and then cut out their livers. He felt like Karl was that kind of guy. What did he have to base it on? Not a lot, he had to admit, but he¡¯d seen the way Karl followed mean-guy around. He¡¯d watched him panic and try to save him when the rope started slipping up top. He could tell they were old friends, and sadistic creeps didn¡¯t stay friends with ¡°good guys¡± for too long. ¡°There must be some sort of puzzle or¡ª¡± Nevkin began, but Ward cut him off. ¡°These two know exactly what¡¯s going on here.¡± He glared at Karl. ¡°Don¡¯t you?¡± ¡°What? Me and Jon got here just a bit ahead of you all. We¡¯re just as confused by all this as you¡ª¡± ¡°Cut the horse shit.¡± Ward¡¯s trigger finger twitched where he held it against the frame of his pistol. He was still pointing it at the floor, but his nerves were shot, and he could tell he was in that mood, a certain frame of mind, that often got him into trouble. If that guy with the axe, Jon, made a move with it¡ª ¡°Horse shit?¡± Jon whirled on him, snarling. ¡°Care to explain?¡± Ward frowned. Was he being literal? Did they not have horses here? Did Ward need to explain his crude phrase? Jon stepped closer, crowding toward him, putting Karl behind him. He gripped the handle of his axe but left it in the loop on his belt. ¡°You think we¡¯re lying about something?¡± ¡°Why don¡¯t you tell us what happened when you came in here? Some kind of message? What¡¯s your buddy sitting on?¡± Ward was bluffing, but he found it odd that, in the face of potentially hostile people, especially someone speaking so bluntly as Ward had been, Karl was still sitting in the same spot. ¡°Oh, this?¡± Karl¡¯s face reddened as though he¡¯d been caught sneaking a cookie. He slowly stood up, and it wasn¡¯t lost on Ward that his hand had drifted to the short, thick-bladed sword he had sheathed at his belt. ¡°Come here and read this for your big friend, pretty.¡± He winked at Haley, still offering that friendly, guileless smile. As he stepped back, Ward could see that Karl had been sitting on an inscribed copper plaque. Haley started forward eagerly. ¡°Haley!¡± Ward said, but too late. She got close, eyes on the plaque, and then Karl was behind her, wrapping her up in a bearhug and pulling her back, away from Ward and Nevkin. ¡°Let go of me!¡± Haley growled, kicking her feet. Unfortunately, Karl was much bigger than she was, and his arms held hers pinned to her sides. Ward had seen enough. He lifted his .357, pointing right at Jon¡¯s face. ¡°Let her go, Karl, or I¡¯m gonna blast your pal.¡± ¡°Think so?¡± Jon started to bob and weave in place, bending his knees and ducking his head in a surprisingly effective attempt to keep Ward¡¯s gun barrel out of his face. Ward wasn¡¯t some rookie who thought he had to shoot a guy in the face, though. Jon might be moving his head around a lot, but his chest was a hell of a lot easier target. Even easier was his center of mass, which was hardly moving at all. Ward lowered the barrel and blasted the guy right in the gut. Chaos ensued in the explosion of gunpowder and the echoing report that rang out in the stone chamber. Jon doubled over with an ¡°Oof!¡± Karl began to wail in pain as Haley¡¯s hand wormed its way behind her and, charged with her special brand of martial arts, began squeezing him between the legs. Nevkin whipped out his rapier and dove forward, charging toward Karl¡¯s blindside. Ward wanted to save his bullets, so he holstered his pistol and swapped his knife to his right hand, and then he saw a flicker of light reflecting on metal, and Jon¡¯s axe ripped through the air, right toward his face. He might have taken it in the forehead, too, if Grace hadn¡¯t shoved him, screaming, ¡°Move, idiot! He¡¯s not dead!¡± Ward knew all kinds of weird things could occur in a man¡¯s brain during combat, but the thought that came to him as Grace saved him from an axe between the eyes was to wonder if this meant he wasn¡¯t crazy, that she had to be real. Could a figment of his imagination make him stumble out of the path of a flying axe? Karl¡¯s wail of agony had risen another octave, and he was thrashing his arms in a windmill fashion as Haley kept her deathly, hot-handed grip on his family jewels. Ward barked a short laugh when he saw what Haley was doing to him, and the thought crossed his mind that she had matters well in hand. ¡°Are you crazy? Quit laughing and do something about this guy!¡± Grace was standing behind Jon as the big, armored man squatted low in a fighting stance. He¡¯d replaced his thrown axe with a knife a lot like Ward¡¯s, and though he pressed a hand to his belly, clearly in pain and bleeding from the gunshot wound, he looked angry enough to skin someone alive. Ward hated the idea of a knife fight, but he wasn¡¯t sure he could swap back to his pistol before the other man lunged and stabbed him. ¡°Come on, then,¡± he growled, lowering his hips, holding up his knife, and circling him. As they squared off, Ward was pleased to see Nevkin finally do something, lunging forward and perforating poor, screaming Karl¡¯s kidney. He figured he just needed to keep Jon¡¯s attention a few more seconds, then the three of them would be able to¡ª Jon interrupted Ward¡¯s mental strategizing. ¡°Ung!¡± He sprang for Ward, hacking his knife in wild, windmilling swings. He hacked down, and Ward wove back, barely dodging the blow. Jon swung the knife up, grazing Ward¡¯s ribs as he twisted away. Jon was swinging so madly that when his arm raised at the end of the slash, Ward saw an opening a mile wide and drove forward, punching his eight-inch blade forward in a swift jab. He felt the knife strike metal, hitting Jon¡¯s chain armor, but he was thrusting as hard as he could, and though the armor stopped the blow, it caused the stab to skitter upward, and Ward kept driving. Hot liquid rushed over his knuckles as the blade sank into the other man¡¯s neck. ¡°Yes!¡± Grace cheered, pumping a fist in the air. Ward stepped back, jerking his knife out and pressing his other hand to the stinging gash in his side. Jon had dropped his knife, holding both hands to his neck, trying to stifle the flow of blood, to no avail; it oozed and pumped out between his fingers. Ward glanced at Haley and Nevkin and saw them standing over an unmoving Karl. Then Jon collapsed, his face ashen and his eyes rolling up in their sockets. ¡°Shit, that escalated fast. What a couple of assholes.¡± This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. ¡°Why¡¯d they grab me? We didn¡¯t threaten them!¡± Haley was visibly shaken, her hands trembling with adrenaline. ¡°The answer lies in this text.¡± Nevkin stepped over to the copper plaque. After adjusting his glasses, he read aloud, ¡°A room of stone built just for thee, with an exit awaiting a group of three. With more or fewer in stone wall¡¯s view, the exit shall fade, the walls ensue.¡± As Nevkin read, Ward turned in a slow circle, examining the walls, and sure enough, a copper door sat in the center of the wall behind him. ¡°This place is a goddamn nightmare.¡± ¡°Do we need to hurry? What if more people are let into the room?¡± Haley stepped away from the growing pool of blood around the perforated Karl. Ward looked down at his opponent, at the bloody pool that had spread out around him, forming a pattern on the stones that looked almost like a crimson cape billowing away from his neck. ¡°That¡¯s a good question.¡± Nevkin frowned and leaned closer to the plaque. ¡°I would have hoped for another reward chest, considering it made us fight for our lives again.¡± ¡°Did it, though?¡± Grace spoke to Ward, even though she was addressing Nevkin¡¯s words. Ward looked at her and raised an eyebrow. ¡°It seems there might have been a peaceful solution. What if extra people had hidden somehow? It says, ¡®in stone wall¡¯s view.¡¯ It doesn¡¯t say only three can be alive. Anyway, the two thugs made the decision easy. You should loot them, Ward.¡± Ward looked down at Jon, then over at Karl. Neither man had a pack, but they had armor and clothes that were in a hell of a lot better shape than his. Jon was about the same size as he was. ¡°Either of you object if I take this guy¡¯s shirt and armor? Mine¡¯s shredded.¡± ¡°Not at all. You should take this one¡¯s sword. It¡¯s a heavy chopping blade, but probably a good choice for a man your size, especially if you aren¡¯t well versed in the art of the blade.¡± Nevkin knelt and began to unbuckle Karl¡¯s sword belt. ¡°Not well versed, huh? Well, I guess you¡¯ve got a point.¡± The room had begun to smell. The air was thick with a coppery, cloying scent that only a lot of spilled blood could cause. Haley¡¯s hands were still trembling, and Ward frowned at her, a little concerned. She hadn¡¯t acted that way after the fight with the frog creatures. ¡°Hey, kid.¡± When she looked at him, he nodded to the corpse at his feet. ¡°Can you help me get this guy¡¯s armor off? We should hurry.¡± It was true; he wouldn¡¯t mind the help, but he was trying to occupy her, trying to get her to stop thinking about the guy she¡¯d helped to kill. ¡°They . . . they were going to keep me and kill you two.¡± ¡°She¡¯s not wrong,¡± Grace piped up. ¡°I know, Haley.¡± She hadn¡¯t yet moved, and Ward suddenly felt stupid asking her to help strip a dead man. ¡°Hey, go wait by the door; I got this.¡± Jon¡¯s armor was made up of interlocking rings sewn to a thick leather lining, and Ward had a hard time getting it off the guy, especially as he tried to keep the blood off it. Some of it couldn¡¯t be helped, though, even though he dragged the body a few feet away from the pool. After finding and unbuckling all the straps and wrestling with the body, he finally held up the blood-spattered, damaged armor. On the second inspection, Jon¡¯s shirt wasn¡¯t really in any better condition than his. The armor had slowed down Ward¡¯s bullet, but he¡¯d still bled freely into his undershirt. Worse, the shirt was soaked in sweat and grime, and Ward couldn¡¯t stomach putting it on. He ripped the sleeves off, though, and used them as rags, trying to clean up the armor a bit before putting it on. When he¡¯d finally gotten it on, he saw Nevkin standing nearby, looking impatient, holding the sword belt for him. Ward walked toward him, shrugging his shoulders, trying to adjust the heavy armored shirt. It was too small for him; his shoulders were broader than Jon¡¯s, and he couldn¡¯t get the straps along the side very tight. Still, he felt a hell of a lot more secure in it than just his tattered work shirt. Ward took the sword belt and slung it around his waist. It was a big, thick belt meant to be worn over the armor. It had a dozen notches, and he could see by the wear which one Karl had used. Ward¡¯s waist was two notches wider. ¡°Those guys were smaller than they looked.¡± ¡°You¡¯re just a big man.¡± Nevkin shrugged and pushed his glasses up on his nose. Ward grunted and worked to fasten his pistol holster and knife sheath to the big sword belt, cutting the leather with his knife to make the slits larger. ¡°Wonder where their other belongings are.¡± He walked over to the wall and picked up the axe Jon had thrown at him. It was a decent-looking weapon, about the size of a hatchet, but with a blade nearly twice as broad, clearly not meant for chopping wood. ¡°The one who grabbed me mentioned falling into water,¡± Haley murmured. ¡°Yes,¡± Nevkin nodded to Haley, ¡°likely they lost some items there.¡± ¡°Hard to believe they swam in this stuff.¡± Ward slapped a hand against his metal-covered chest. The armor had added a lot of weight to his burden, but at least it made the narrow pack straps more comfortable. ¡°Now, you look like you might handle a little more trouble.¡± Grace nodded in approval, walking in a slow circle around him. ¡°It doesn¡¯t fit you perfectly, but we can worry about that when you get out of here.¡± Ward was just about to suggest they walk through the door while they still could, but then his eyes caught the flickering, ghostly sparkle of tiny clouds of mana drifting up from Jon¡¯s corpse. He frowned, thought about it, and then said, ¡°I need to do something before we go. I need to figure something out. It¡¯ll just take me a couple of minutes.¡± Nevkin shook his head. ¡°Every minute we delay is a risk¡ª¡± ¡°Yeah, I know. Go ahead without me if you want.¡± Ward took his pack off and dug around for his hemograph. Haley moved closer, folding her arms over her chest. ¡°I¡¯ll wait, Ward.¡± ¡°I think I¡¯ll¡ª¡± Nevkin cut his words short when he saw Ward lift the little copper and glass device out of his pack. ¡°Wait, as well.¡± Ward sat down next to Jon¡¯s body near his head and away from the pooled blood. He put the hemograph in his lap, sheathed his knife, and then smeared some blood from one of his cuts onto his fingertip. Haley leaned close. ¡°What are you doing?¡± ¡°I have to check something.¡± ¡°It¡¯s a hemograph. He¡¯s reading his vital statistics.¡± ¡°Oh! I¡¯ve heard of those!¡± Nevkin shrugged, but he, too, leaned close. ¡°I¡¯ve seen better. My master has one that was built by a crystalsmith on Primus.¡± Ward pressed his blood into the depression in the metal and stared at the inky fluid beneath the glass:
Bloodline: Basic Human (h)
Accumulated Mana: 3.1
Mana Well: Tin + 2.0
Mana Sensitivity: Bronze
Mana Pathways: Tin
Vessel Capacity: Tin
Vessel Durability: h + 3.21
Vessel Strength: h + 2.09
Vessel Speed: h + 1.53
Longevity remaining: ~42.33%
Anima: NIL
Staring at the numbers, some things began to come together in Ward¡¯s mind. It said he had three-point-one accumulated mana, but his ¡°vessel¡± durability, strength, and speed had all gone up by nearly a full point. It meant that he¡¯d ¡°accumulated¡± more than that from the corpse back by the stairs, and his body was already making use of it. Did he have room to accumulate more? Nevkin and Haley continued to talk, and Ward could feel Grace behind him, watching intently, but he ignored them all. He closed his eyes and held his hand out, touching the cloud of mana motes lazily drifting about in the air above Jon¡¯s corpse. He steadied his breathing and emptied his mind, opening himself to the unseen universe, willing himself to be part of something bigger. Suddenly, he could feel the motes dancing around his hand, and then, like tiny, cold explosions, they sank into his flesh, sending tingles of euphoria up his arms and into his chest. It was over before he knew it, and Ward opened his eyes with a sigh. Haley was leaning very close, staring at his hand. ¡°What are you doing?¡± ¡°He¡¯s gathering mana. My master . . .¡± Ward tuned him out, smearing another drop of blood onto the hemograph¡¯s sensor. One of the numbers shifted on the display:
Accumulated Mana: 6.8
¡°It seems like you can gather a little more now than you could before!¡± Grace whispered into his ear. Ward frowned and rubbed his ear on his shoulder. He stood, tucked the hemograph into his pack, and then pointed at the door. ¡°Thanks for waiting. Shall we?¡± 18. A Parting of Ways 18 ¨C A Parting of Ways ¡°I don¡¯t like this at all,¡± Haley said as they traversed another long, descending tunnel. They¡¯d been walking for what felt like an hour or more, and they¡¯d passed more than a dozen branching tunnels. Wherever they had to make a choice, they¡¯d been choosing the right-hand option, following some rule Ward had read about mazes¡ªsomething about following one wall being the way to get out. Ward couldn¡¯t imagine they had to worry about walking in a circle; every tunnel had a downward slope. ¡°The tunnels?¡± Ward frowned, running the fingers of his right hand against the curved stone wall. It was damp, and it felt closer than ever. In fact, his head was only a couple of inches from the top. He could smell the moisture as he observed the delicate white veins of niter lacing the stonework in frost-like patterns. ¡°No. Yes! Everything! I don¡¯t mind solving puzzles and even fighting monsters, but I never wanted to kill a person! Look what it¡¯s done to us. Poor Fost! I¡¯m sorry you died, but you¡¯re lucky to have missed this evil place!¡± She abruptly stopped speaking as she choked back a sob. ¡°Yeah, he got a raw deal, Haley. Hang in there.¡± Ward had said something similar to her at least half a dozen times; the poor girl was near her breaking point, and he dreaded being there to see it happen. At this point, he just hoped they¡¯d find a way out sooner rather than later. ¡°She¡¯s going to be a problem for you, Ward.¡± Grace hadn¡¯t been around much during their endless-seeming slog through the latest batch of tunnels, so when she spoke up behind him, he lurched forward and almost hit his head on the tunnel ceiling. Even so, he managed to refrain from another outburst, and the two younger challengers ahead of him didn¡¯t notice. Still, he turned and glared at Grace, and she smiled, cringing sheepishly, ¡°I¡¯m sorry about that; I really don¡¯t mean to startle you.¡± When Ward didn¡¯t respond, she continued, ¡°Listen, I know you¡¯re trying not to look crazy in front of your new friends, so just hear me out. You¡¯re getting attached to that girl. I admit it¡¯s been helpful having them both along in these rooms where you had to fight or where you needed three people to make the door appear. However, what will you do if the next room says only two can progress? Do you think you could stomach killing one of them? Oh, don¡¯t get me wrong, I¡¯ve seen your suspicious looks at that Nevkin kid, but I still don¡¯t think you¡¯ve got it in you. Why not avoid the problem altogether? Next time they go right, why don¡¯t you try going left?¡± Ward frowned, thinking about it. Grace could come off as cold-hearted, but she made a good point. What would he do if they came to a door that only allowed two people through? What if it only allowed one? He stewed on it for a while, and as they approached a junction of three tunnels and he saw Nevkin start to turn to the right, he said, ¡°Hold up for a minute.¡± Nevkin and Haley turned to him, and Ward stopped, facing the junction and his two companions. ¡°What do you guys think about the possibility that this place will pit us against each other? What if the next room has a door allowing only two to pass?¡± ¡°It¡¯s certainly crossed my mind.¡± Nevkin reached up and stroked his hairless chin. His sharp nose and deep eye sockets made his brown eyes look like pools of blackness in the dim light. ¡°I . . .¡± Haley frowned, and Ward could see some panic enter her eyes as she turned left and right, looking down the different tunnels. ¡°Look, I¡¯d hate it. I¡¯m not the kind of guy who can turn on people and commit random violence ¡®cause some weird challenge programmed by ancient aliens or whatever told me to. I kind of wonder if we maybe shouldn¡¯t split up a bit while we still can.¡± ¡°It does feel as though the catacombs have given us plenty of warning. We know such mechanics exist by now. If we stick together, we¡¯re practically tempting fate.¡± Nevkin nodded as he spoke, his eyes narrowed, and Ward had to admire how resolute the kid was. He didn¡¯t seem shaken or bothered in the least. ¡°There¡¯s no sense belaboring the issue. I think it¡¯s sound logic. It was good to journey with you both. I shall take the right-hand tunnel. Farewell!¡± With that, the young fellow with the weirdly tattooed head turned on his heel and began to march away. Ward opened his mouth, caught off guard. He¡¯d been admiring the kid¡¯s fortitude one second, and then the next, he found himself trying to think of a reason to call him back. He couldn¡¯t. Instead, he called after him, ¡°Good luck!¡± ¡°I don¡¯t want to be alone,¡± Haley said in a quiet voice, looking at the ground. ¡°You know, so far, every group limiter has said three. What if we come to another door requiring three again?¡± ¡°I thought of that!¡± Grace announced, moving to stand next to Haley so Ward could look at her more easily. ¡°I don¡¯t think it¡¯s likely that the catacombs will give you the same obstacle twice. So far, you¡¯ve been through a door that only allowed three people, and you¡¯ve been in a room that required three people to form a door. I think it¡¯s improbable you¡¯ll run into another obstacle involving companions in groups of three.¡± ¡°I¡ª¡± Ward started to say, but Haley was already shaking her head and starting to speak. ¡°I suppose it¡¯s not likely we¡¯ll be challenged in the same way again. Nevkin would have thought of that.¡± ¡°Yeah, but what if the next door requires two people?¡± Ward shrugged. ¡°I don¡¯t know the right answer.¡± ¡°Nor do I, Ward. You¡¯ve been very brave and kind to me, though, and I appreciate it. As much as I hate this, as much as I fear being alone in here, I think we should separate before one of us is forced to do or witness something terrible.¡± She stepped toward him, putting her long, slender arms around his ribs and hugging him. Ward sighed, feeling some pent-up stress release as she made the tough decision for them. He hugged her back, gently patting her between the shoulders. ¡°You¡¯re going to be okay. You¡¯ll make it out of here, and your folks are going to be proud.¡± ¡°Thank you. I hope so.¡± She sniffed and let go of him. Then she looked at the central and left-most tunnels. ¡°Which passage do you wish to take?¡± ¡°You choose.¡± ¡°Very well. I will venture to the left. Good luck, Ward!¡± ¡°You too.¡± Ward watched her descend the slightly curving tunnel, and in less than a minute, she was gone. ¡°Well! Alone at last!¡± Grace clapped her hands together, once again startling Ward. ¡°Quite a time you¡¯ve had in here.¡± He scowled at her, stretching his neck, trying to shake off the chill she¡¯d given him. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m not saying you didn¡¯t have ulterior motives, but I¡¯m glad I never had to go against those two.¡± ¡°Oh, I know. Trust me, I could see the writing on the wall. It would have ruined you. No, this is for the best. Just you and me now. Come on! Let¡¯s see what¡¯s down this way.¡± She turned and, being the figment of his mind that she was, began to skip barefoot down the musty rough stone passageway. ¡°Dammit! Hold up! I¡¯ve had a few things I¡¯ve wanted to talk to you about.¡± Ward took a few steps toward her, entering the tunnel and noticing a slightly steeper slope. Grace stopped and came back toward him, hands clasped behind her back. ¡°Yes?¡± ¡°You get how fucked this whole thing is, right? It¡¯s really dumb luck that I¡¯m not dead yet. Here I stand, deep in the belly of some alien world, surrounded by God knows how much stone and dirt. Some kind of intelligence is running these ¡®catacombs,¡¯ and it seems to want to kill as many of us as it can. Did I miss anything?¡± ¡°Well, you missed that you were smart enough to start running on the stairs. You were the first to tell everyone to stand still when the flame jets started. You were tough enough to survive two hostile encounters. Oh, and I helped keep an axe out of your forehead! Doesn¡¯t sound like dumb luck to me.¡± She shrugged. ¡°What¡¯s your point?¡± ¡°My point? Well, shit.¡± Ward sighed and started walking. ¡°I guess I don¡¯t have a good one ¡®cause if you hadn¡¯t brought me to this world, I¡¯d be dead back on Earth. I¡¯m not a dummy. Well, I mean, other than the whole thing about you stealing my goddamn soul!¡± ¡°It¡¯s not your¡ª¡± ¡°Soul, right. Forgive me¡ªmy anima, which, you know, allows me to avoid oblivion if I die. Anyway, did you see what I saw on the hemograph?¡± Ward held up a hand, forestalling a snarky response. ¡°I know you did¡ªthat was rhetorical. I am improving my ¡®vessel.¡¯ Still not sure what we¡¯ll get out of this place, though, other than the chance to linger around some corpses.¡± ¡°I agree the prizes have been lackluster, but stay hopeful, Ward. Hopefully, the best is yet to come.¡± ¡°Yeah, let¡¯s hope.¡± He walked ahead of her for a couple of minutes, then paused and turned to face her. ¡°How far from me can you wander?¡± ¡°Only to where you can see. Remember, I¡¯m actually inside you. I can only physically interact with your body. This manifestation is only a mental construct.¡± She gestured up and down her body. ¡°Sorry, but that means I can¡¯t scout into places to see the unknown.¡± ¡°I suppose you don¡¯t notice things that I don¡¯t notice then? Well, wait! How¡¯d you know to shove me out of the path of that axe?¡± ¡°Oh, you saw it; you just didn¡¯t register it. I¡¯m a little better at objectively analyzing the things you take in¡ªsounds, smells, and even your peripheral vision. With that said, I¡¯m constantly looking for traps and dangers. I know I annoy you sometimes, but I am trying to help.¡± A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation. ¡°And when you shove me? Are you just making my muscles spasm or something?¡± ¡°No. It¡¯s more like psychic energy. I can affect you physically, but that¡¯s about all.¡± ¡°How much can you affect me? Could you control my body?¡± ¡°What are you getting at, Ward? What¡¯s with the twenty questions?¡± ¡°What¡¯s with them? How about the fact that you¡¯ve already lied to me? Maybe all these questions are piling up because you keep slipping away when I start to ask them!¡± ¡°If you think I¡¯m a liar, why bother asking questions like that one? Do you think I¡¯d tell you the truth? How about a more interesting topic? That Nevkin fellow mentioned seeing a ¡®better¡¯ hemograph. It got me thinking back to the stories I¡¯d heard, the old diaries I read. I¡¯m fairly sure I remember accounts of powerful mana-users who could channel their harvested mana into desired areas of their vessel. It seems like your vessel is almost randomly using the mana you harvest. I wonder¡ª¡± ¡°Grace, I know you¡¯re just changing the subject, and if you¡¯re not going to be honest with me, then let¡¯s just cut the bullshit. I want to know more about mana and anima and all that stuff, but I¡¯m struggling to concentrate right now, and I think I can probably find a better source than your childhood memories. Let¡¯s focus on getting out of here.¡± ¡°Fine. I¡¯ll continue to watch ahead.¡± ¡°All right.¡± Ward turned and started walking again. About ten minutes later, he realized he was hunching; the tunnel had continued to diminish in height, and now he had to stoop to avoid scraping his head on the rough, damp stones. As usual, the catacombs provided some mysterious ambient light, but it was only enough for him to see about ten feet in any direction. If he hadn¡¯t already been down there for hours, wending through similar tunnels, he¡¯d probably have been stressed out by the dark, wondering what lurked in the shadows, but he¡¯d grown desensitized to the circumstances. After another twenty minutes of progress with no branching tunnels or any other sign of egress, Ward was almost doubled over, his backpack constantly brushing against the ceiling. After a while, he swore and knelt down for a break, stretching his back and pulling the pack off. ¡°This is shit!¡± ¡°I certainly don¡¯t envy you. This looks like torturous progress!¡± Grace stood right behind him, leaning over but looking perfectly at ease, per usual. ¡°I wonder if the other tunnels also diminished like this. If not, you certainly got the short end of the stick from your erstwhile companions.¡± ¡°Well, even if they have tunnels like mine, they¡¯re both much smaller.¡± ¡°True, true. Do you ever rue eating all your veggies?¡± ¡°Huh?¡± ¡°When you were a kid! Didn¡¯t your mom tell you to eat your veggies to grow up big and tall?¡± ¡°Jesus, is that an attempt at humor? Don¡¯t quit your day job.¡± Ward fished his water bottle out of his pack and took a good long drink. When he finished, he screwed the cap on and shook it, figuring he¡¯d drunk about half. ¡°Be nice if we found some fresh water.¡± ¡°Many things would be nice. Right now, I think you should worry about a tunnel that seems to be getting smaller and smaller. Do you think you should back up and follow behind one of your friends? You could also further backtrack to one of the other branching tunnels.¡± ¡°I dunno. You think this¡¯ll keep getting worse? I hate to give up. What if the end¡¯s just past the edge of the light?¡± ¡°Ever heard of the sunk cost fallacy, Ward?¡± Ward smirked and shook his head. ¡°Yeah. So you¡¯re saying I shouldn¡¯t consider how much work I spent getting here when I decide if I should turn around or not.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not saying what you should do, but be aware of your inherent bias.¡± ¡°If I were totally logical, I¡¯d have missed a few big case breaks in my career, you know. I listen to my instincts more than most people might be comfortable with.¡± Ward stood, stooping nearly in half, and reached one hand behind him to grab the top strap of his backpack. He¡¯d decided to leave it off and drag it behind him. Grace spoke up from behind his pack as he started forward, ¡°What are your instincts saying?¡± ¡°That this is another test.¡± ¡°It seems plausible . . .¡± Grace trailed off, growing quiet while Ward began to work his way deeper. It was uncomfortable going, not just from the awkward nature of his posture but also because of the poor quality of the air. It grew ever damper and mustier in the passage, and soon Ward could hear his well-worn leather shoes squelching through damp fungi. As he¡¯d feared, the passage continued to narrow. Soon, he was stooped over so far that it became untenable, and he dropped to his knees to reevaluate his progress. ¡°This sucks,¡± he grunted, shifting his damp knees off some wet, spongelike growth. ¡°Are you sure you want to keep¡ª¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± ¡°The test might be one of rationality. It might be the catacombs trying to see if you¡¯re pig-headed enough to crawl into a space so confined that you grow stuck!¡± Grace had lost her cool, detached affect, and her near-hysterical tone was grating on Ward¡¯s already frayed nerves. ¡°If you can¡¯t calm down, you need to disappear for a while. Let me think.¡± He reached under his armored shirt, fishing around for the old leather belt holding up his trousers. He unclasped it and pulled it out of the loops, then, twisting sideways, he looped it around his ankle, pulling it tight through the old brass buckle. He hooked the long end around the top loop on his backpack, using a piece of leather cord to tie it in place. He nodded, giving it a few hard tugs to ensure it was tight. ¡°That way, I can drag it behind me as I crawl.¡± He turned to start forward again, but Grace was there, on her hands and knees, staring into his eyes. ¡°Ward! Hear me out.¡± She spoke calmly, clearly trying not to aggravate him, so he sighed and settled back on his haunches, taking the opportunity to rest a minute more. ¡°Go ahead.¡± ¡°If this tunnel gets much narrower and you keep going, what will you do if you find you cannot progress? What if it¡¯s too tight to turn?¡± Ward sighed and rubbed his palm along the damp, rough stone blocks. They were smaller here than back in the section where he could stand. It really did feel like they were slowly closing in on him and that he¡¯d end up squished or trapped. It was a freaky, claustrophobia-inducing situation, but Ward was good at compartmentalizing his emotions. He was good at putting them, including fear and panic, into a box so he could handle the situation at hand. Now, granted, that might be the wrong thing to do in a situation like this. Maybe the right move was to freak out and get the hell out of that tunnel. Ward didn¡¯t think so, though, and he knew he couldn¡¯t explain it. He just had a feeling that he was on to something. He didn¡¯t say anything to Grace at first, running those thoughts through his mind, measuring his determination¡ªhis fortitude to keep the course. When he decided he still wanted to continue, he opened his mouth to say so, but Grace sighed heavily and beat him to it, ¡°Oh, forget it, old man. I can see it in your eyes. Well, good luck, I guess. It¡¯s only our funeral if you¡¯re wrong.¡± ¡°My funeral and your time-out, you mean.¡± ¡°Fair.¡± Suddenly, she wasn¡¯t in front of him any longer, and Ward leaned forward, crawling on his hands and knees into the damp, tight tunnel, his pack scraping along on the ground behind him every time he pulled his right knee up. His knees grew sore after just a few minutes, but he¡¯d been expecting that. In fact, he was surprised it took so long¡ªGrace¡¯s uncle had done a damn fine job fixing him up. He was tired and sore from his exertions, but overall, he felt pretty good. The cut Jon had given him with his knife had scabbed up nicely, and Ward hardly noticed it if he didn¡¯t think about it. He couldn¡¯t even feel the scratches and cuts he¡¯d gotten fighting the frog creatures. He supposed part of that was down to Haley dressing his wounds with her healing ointment. All that considered, he was pretty damn surprised he was still going so strong. His time in the catacombs hadn¡¯t been easy, but his body was holding up well, much better than it would have been back on Earth. It was strange, really, when he thought about it. Grace claimed she¡¯d taken ten years off his age, but he felt like a lot more than that had changed. He should be sore, hungry, and thirsty. He was all of those things, but not to any extreme level. He felt like he could eat a sandwich but wasn¡¯t exactly starved. In nearly a day, he¡¯d drunk about twelve ounces of water, and that was with a lot of heavy exertion. He was thirsty and knew he was close to pushing himself past some kind of threshold, but he¡¯d definitely held up better than he should have. He crawled his way forward, always in a dim section of cramped, damp tunnel, liberally covered in mossy or moldy¡ªWard wasn¡¯t sure what they were¡ªgrowths. All the while he toiled, his mind kept coming back to the strange nature of his endurance. Was it due to the mana he¡¯d absorbed? Could those tiny particles of shimmering blue dust be affecting him that much? He couldn¡¯t think of another explanation unless Grace or her uncle had done a lot more than heal his old wounds and de-age him a bit. He grew so absorbed with his thoughts that when he shifted from his knees into a stomach crawl, he hardly noticed. It was about ten minutes later, when he felt the sides of the tunnel start to brush up against his shoulders, that he realized just how tight things had become. ¡°Damn. I was in the zone, I guess.¡± ¡°Ward?¡± Grace¡¯s voice was small and, if he didn¡¯t know better, timid sounding, drifting up to his ears from behind him. ¡°Yeah?¡± ¡°I¡¯m starting to freak out.¡± Ward paused and considered her words. She certainly sounded freaked out. Was that possible? She was a devil, wasn¡¯t she? How could she be more bothered by this experience than he was? She didn¡¯t even have a body to get stuck in. ¡°Are you afraid you¡¯re gonna get stuck down here somehow?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know. I¡¯ve never been in a place like this. The catacombs must use some kind of magical transport system; how else can you explain the falls and doors, the weird tunnels and light and rooms that don¡¯t match up to any plausible mental map I can try to draw? What if the aether doesn¡¯t flow here? What if I get trapped when you die?¡± She paused then more earnestly, suddenly beside him, though there wasn¡¯t room for her, she said, right into his ear, ¡°I know that sounds horrible. I don¡¯t want you to die, Ward! I don¡¯t want to watch you suffer, losing your mind as you get stuck under all these tons of rock!¡± ¡°Grace, you need to calm down!¡± Ward growled. ¡°Come on, give me some space,¡± he barked a short laugh and shook his head, ¡°I mean what little I have, and let me get back to work. I think we¡¯re getting close.¡± ¡°You¡¯re insane! If you start inching your way backward now, you¡¯ll only lose a few hours. Half a day at most!¡± ¡°Grace!¡± At his shout, she disappeared, and he was alone in the tunnel again. Ward did feel like he was nearing something, but he didn¡¯t know why. It was only after he¡¯d crawled for another ten minutes or so that he figured it out¡ªthe air was fresher, and he could even feel a faint breeze tickling the hairs on his sweat-covered arms. Buoyed by the realization, he began to scrabble forward in earnest, shimmying his way over the damp, fuzzy stone until the light that seemed to follow all of the challengers through the catacombs expanded to reveal a circular room with a tarnished copper stairway winding its way up the walls. As relief washed over him and he hurried toward the small, barely-Ward-sized opening, eager to be out of the tunnel, his eyes fell on another object sitting near the base of the tarnished stair. It was a copper chest, just like the one he, Haley, and Nevkin had found. ¡°Well, well, well,¡± he said, sliding out of the tunnel like a slime-covered, stubble-faced, gigantic fetus from a muddy womb. ¡°Oh, thank the lord!¡± Grace suddenly appeared in the much larger space, prancing around as though she was center stage at a dance recital. Ward smirked, leaning against the stone wall, sighing heavily as he tugged his backpack up beside him, digging around for his water bottle. ¡°Hey,¡± he said, unscrewing the lid, ¡°you being a devil and all, when you say, ¡®thank the lord,¡¯ who exactly are you talking about?¡± 19. A Messy Situation 19 ¨C A Messy Situation ¡°Hey,¡± Ward swallowed a gulp of water, ¡°you think it¡¯s a good sign that we found some stairs leading up? Everything¡¯s been down so far.¡± Grace walked over to the narrow, tarnished copper steps and tapped her bare toes on the first one. ¡°Seems like it might be a good sign.¡± She turned to him and frowned. ¡°How long will you make me wait to watch you open that chest?¡± ¡°That little copper box?¡± Ward chuckled, enjoying teasing her. She scowled and stared at him for a minute. ¡°God, you¡¯re filthy.¡± Ward sputtered, almost losing some of his precious water. ¡°Excuse me? I just crawled through hell! Hey, seriously, though, when you say ¡®God,¡¯ are you¡ª¡± ¡°Ward, I don¡¯t know anything more about God, gods, or the afterlife than you do. When I say things like that, I¡¯m just speaking like all the humans I¡¯ve hung around with for the last few decades. Okay?¡± ¡°Right. Well, you know, I figured I¡¯d ask.¡± Ward stuffed his water bottle back into his pack and then laboriously clambered to his feet. ¡°All right, let¡¯s see what we¡¯re dealing with here. He stepped over to the little shoe-box-sized chest and squatted down, peering at it from every angle. ¡°I¡¯m no Nevkin, but I don¡¯t think it has a trap.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t see anything suspicious either,¡± Grace spoke right into his ear, her hot breath tickling it and sending shivers down his spine. ¡°Jesus, Grace! Ever heard of personal space?¡± ¡°I¡¯m a devil living in your head . . .¡± He shuddered again, then turned back to the chest. ¡°Let¡¯s see here.¡± He flipped up the little latch, then carefully lifted the lid, peeking through the gap as it widened. When he saw what was within, he flipped the lid all the way open. ¡°Huh.¡± Nothing sat within save one small bottle, probably about eight ounces worth of white, milky fluid inside. ¡°You shitting me? A bottle of milk?¡± ¡°Don¡¯t be a dummy. Just because it¡¯s white doesn¡¯t make it milk. This might be it! This might be a refinement elixir!¡± ¡°Refinement? That¡¯s what you were hoping I¡¯d find, right? Something to make me better at dealing with mana?¡± ¡°That¡¯s right¡ªsomething to improve your vessel.¡± ¡°Okay.¡± Ward gingerly wrapped his fingers around the bottle and lifted it. ¡°Let¡¯s see if there¡¯s any kind of label.¡± ¡°Careful!¡± She hovered close, holding her hand beneath his as if she could catch the bottle if he dropped it. Ward scowled. ¡°Would you relax? I¡¯m not suddenly going to have butter fingers just ¡®cause¡ªOof!¡± He grunted and stumbled, pretending to fumble the bottle. Grace screamed and, in a panic, waved her hands around near the ground, where it looked like he was about to fall. ¡°Oh, good grief! Relax!¡± He laughed, standing up straight, bottle firmly in hand. ¡°You asshole!¡± Grace leaped up, the fire in her eyes flaring brightly as she scowled. ¡°Okay, let¡¯s see here.¡± Ward carefully rotated the bottle. It was corked and sealed with something like blue wax. As he spun it in his fingers, he found that the wax had been stamped with a fanciful, curlicued ¡®R¡¯ on one side. ¡°R for ¡®refinement¡¯?¡± ¡°We can hope!¡± ¡°Huh. What if it¡¯s ¡®R¡¯ for ¡®regression¡¯? What if it turns me into a caveman?¡± ¡°What difference would there be?¡± Grace smirked, folding her arms over her chest. ¡°Proud of yourself? I handed that to you.¡± He pondered the little bottle again. ¡°What do I do? Just chug it?¡± ¡°That¡¯s actually a good question.¡± Grace stepped closer to him, peering at the wax seal on the bottle. ¡°Nothing to do but try, I guess. This room seems pretty safe. The stairs go up a long way, and I can¡¯t imagine anyone sneaking up on you through that tiny, awful tunnel. ¡°Yeah, all right.¡± Ward started dragging his thumbnail through the wax around the cork, trying to peel enough away so he could grip the stopper. After he¡¯d chipped most of it off, he seized the cork between his incisors and twisted the bottle, tugging until the cork started to slip free of the glass. ¡°Wait!¡± Grace grabbed his arm. ¡°You should sit down before you drink it. I don¡¯t know what it will be like, but you might faint or something.¡± ¡°Faint?¡± Ward snorted. ¡°I doubt it. I¡¯ve drunk some pretty strong stuff in my day.¡± ¡°Oh, brother.¡± Grace sighed and buried her head in her hands. ¡°Why me? Why did I get such an oaf for a host?¡± ¡°You chose me, remember? Anyway, relax.¡± Ward turned, then sat on the second step of the copper stairs. ¡°Happy?¡± ¡°I guess it¡¯s a compromise.¡± ¡°Okay, bottom¡¯s up!¡± Ward yanked the cork the rest of the way out and tipped the liquid into his mouth. He was thirsty, so he was glad for the drink, but when he tasted it, he chugged enthusiastically. He supposed that if he wasn¡¯t thirsty or hungry and hadn¡¯t just crawled on his belly for two hours, he might not have so enthusiastically enjoyed the sugar-sweet concoction. As it was, he appreciated it, and when he lowered the drained bottle and smacked his lips, savoring the tangy, almost citrus aftertaste, he noticed Grace staring at him with wide eyes. ¡°What?¡± ¡°What, what? I¡¯m watching to see what happens!¡± ¡°I think we were wrong about it. I just feel really refre¡ªurgh!¡± Ward¡¯s words cut off in a strangled gasp as his stomach contracted into a tight ball, and he doubled over in agony. ¡°Jesu¡ªargh!¡± His guts kept spasming in waves, and he could feel things roiling around in there. Ward had had food poisoning a few times; he¡¯d experienced his body voiding its contents in both directions a couple of times in his life, but this felt different. ¡°I¡¯m fu¡ªI¡¯m poisoned!¡± He gasped and writhed, hot and cold waves rippling through his flesh, starting at his stomach and radiating outward. He felt sweat exploding from his pores, drenching his shirt, pants, and hair. He coughed and wheezed, and his mouth filled with tangy saliva that dribbled out over his chin as the spasms spread from his stomach to his back, neck, and limbs. ¡°Hang in there, Ward! I think that potion¡¯s cleansing you or something. Oh, jeez, we should have taken your clothes off. Well, at least that armor¡¯s keeping you from scraping yourself up on the ground while you writhe around . . .¡± Ward couldn¡¯t concentrate on her babbling. His vision had gone all weird and rainbow-hued. The walls and ceiling were wavy and transparent, stars and galaxies visible beyond them. All sorts of sounds were echoing and buzzing in his ears, from horses whinnying to cannons blasting to a violin playing some kind of waltz. ¡°What¡ª¡± Ward gasped, ¡°the¡ª¡± he groaned and ground his teeth, ¡°fuck!¡± As suddenly as his stomach had first contracted, everything suddenly stopped, and he found himself lying on the damp stones, eyes squeezed shut, panting for breath. Slowly, as the ringing in his ears faded, he became aware that Grace was speaking to him. ¡°. . . think it¡¯s normal, in any case. Oof, I¡¯m so glad I don¡¯t have to smell things. I mean, I can, but I can also not. You know? Jeez, man, you look rough. I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll look better after you get cleaned up and have a good rest. Probably won¡¯t hurt to get a real meal in your¡ª¡± Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site. ¡°Grace,¡± Ward grunted, flopping onto his back and opening his eyes the barest of slits; even the dim, ambient glow of the catacombs was painful as it stabbed into his retinas. ¡°Yeah?¡± ¡°Shut the hell up for a minute.¡± He squeezed his eyes shut again, inhaling deeply through his nose, then reached up to rub his face with his hands. They¡¯d been grimy before from the long crawl through the moldy, damp tunnel, but they were utterly filthy now, and he instinctively jerked them away from his nose when he caught their odor. ¡°What the hell is that stench?¡± ¡°You!¡± Grace laughed. ¡°Your clothes are ruined!¡± ¡°So that potion just made me sick? I drank that shit so I could cramp up and sweat out a bunch of poisonous gunk?¡± ¡°Oh, trust me, you did more than sweat. Your pants are utterly destroyed.¡± ¡°Shut¡ª¡± Ward was going to tell her to shut up again, but his mind had stalled as he struggled to sit and realized she wasn¡¯t lying. He¡¯d pissed and shat himself, for sure. ¡°Damn it. I have no clean clothes and, like, six ounces of water.¡± ¡°Well, I won¡¯t tell anyone if you don¡¯t. If you run into someone, just say you . . . Oh, maybe just say you had to crawl through a sewage-filled tunnel.¡± ¡°God, I feel weak.¡± Ward leaned forward to rest one palm on the cold, rocky floor, waiting for his head to stop spinning. ¡°I¡¯m sure whatever that potion changed in you took a lot of energy. You should eat the rest of that travel cake you stole from the scavs.¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t steal it.¡± He crawled over to his pack, still resting on the floor near the stairs, then began to dig through it. He pulled out the thick, woolen blanket he¡¯d slept on while out in the wild, and an idea occurred to him. ¡°Yeah, this¡¯ll do.¡± He set it aside, then fished out the foil-wrapped cake. Before he knew it, he was crumpling the foil into a ball and licking the last crumbs of the cake from his fingertips. ¡°That was amazing!¡± Grace laughed. ¡°I¡¯ve never seen a human eat something so dry, so fast! Your face is beet red!¡± ¡°Hard¡ª¡± Ward choked on the word and dug out his copper water bottle. He chugged the last of it, then finished what he¡¯d been trying to say. ¡°Hard to swallow!¡± He sat back with a sigh, already feeling much better. After gathering his thoughts, he drew his knife from its sheath and got to work on the blanket. Grace slowly circled him as he measured and cut, scrutinizing his work and nodding. ¡°Wanna tell me what the hell just happened to me? I don¡¯t feel ¡®refined¡¯ by that potion.¡± ¡°Oh, but you were! That gunk you . . . expelled was an accumulation of impurities and old cells from your body. The potion must have purged them from you as it built up your vessel, er, your body. I bet you¡¯ve improved in lots of ways! I can¡¯t see a big difference in you physically, but then, I¡¯m used to you. Maybe if you cleaned some of that gunk off your skin and stood next to the old Ward, I¡¯d notice the changes.¡± He dragged the knife blade down an imaginary line on the wool blanket and snorted. ¡°The old Ward?¡± ¡°You know, Ward from before the potion. Anyway, I bet you¡¯ll see a big difference when you next try to absorb mana. Heck, you might even survive using one of the words now.¡± ¡°The, uh, words of power?¡± Ward held up the cut section of the blanket and nodded. ¡°I¡¯ll check the hemograph in a minute. I¡¯m gonna get naked, so give me some privacy.¡± ¡°Are you joking? I just saw you do the most vile things a human body can do! I think I¡¯ll survive seeing your penis!¡± Ward was too exhausted and anxious to get out of his clothes to argue. ¡°If you want to see me naked like this, that¡¯s your business, I guess. Didn¡¯t think you were that kind of pervert.¡± ¡°Like this?¡± ¡°Covered in shit, weirdo.¡± Ward pulled the heavy, armored shirt over his head, grunting with the effort. He held it up, pleased to see that his shirt had absorbed most of the stuff he¡¯d excreted; the hauberk was filthy, but not with his . . . gunk. He draped it onto the copper stairs, then pulled off his shirt. Before he threw it away, as he wanted immediately to do, he balled it up and scraped it over his body, trying to wipe away as much of the filth as he could. That done, he performed the same procedure with his pants, wishing he had some water to rinse off the mess the whole time. Once he was finished with that, he picked up his new, knee-length poncho constructed from his scavenger blanket and draped it over his head. He folded the sides flat and then cinched his old belt around his waist, holding it in place. ¡°Not bad!¡± ¡°I¡¯ve seen worse, but that was back in the twelfth century or so.¡± ¡°You¡¯re extremely helpful, you know that?¡± Ward stuffed his bare feet into his leather shoes, then pulled the armored hauberk back on, grunting and staggering as he forced his head through the neck hole. He hadn¡¯t fully unbuckled the straps because it was a lot easier to put on by himself if he didn¡¯t. Finally, feeling a bit more like a human being, he strapped on his sword belt. ¡°At least you¡¯ve got nice legs!¡± Grace quipped as he sat down again on the steps. Ward didn¡¯t let her get a rise out of him. Instead, he picked up the hemograph and balanced it on his knee while he pulled out his knife. ¡°Let¡¯s see if you¡¯re full of shit or not.¡± A few seconds later, he was puzzling over the updated table that the device displayed:
Bloodline: Awakened Human (ah)
Accumulated Mana: 0
Mana Well: Copper
Mana Sensitivity: Iron
Mana Pathways: Copper
Vessel Capacity: Copper
Vessel Durability: ah + 13.11
Vessel Strength: ah + .08
Vessel Speed: ah + 9.31
Longevity remaining: ~62.33%
Anima: NIL
¡°Holy shit,¡± Grace breathed into Ward¡¯s ear, suddenly hovering by his side. ¡°Ward, I don¡¯t fully understand this thing¡¯s ratings, but that seems like a big change!¡± Ward frowned, staring at the numbers. ¡°I wish I had a notebook. I¡¯m trying to remember what they all were before. The ¡®copper¡¯ ones were ¡®tin¡¯ before, right?¡± ¡°Yes, and your mana sensitivity was ¡®bronze.¡¯ I¡¯d guess tin leads to copper and copper to bronze, which, in the case of your mana sensitivity, became iron.¡± ¡°And my other stats¡ªthey say ¡®ah¡¯ now for ¡®awakened human.¡¯ That¡¯s pretty cool. The numbers are totally different. Do you think if I get those high enough, I can go to the next stage? Whatever¡¯s after ¡®awakened human?¡¯¡± Grace sat down by his side and shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s a good theory. I¡¯m out of my depth, Ward. Obviously, none of my Earth-bound hosts ever got this far.¡± ¡°Can¡¯t complain about twenty percent more longevity, either.¡± Ward held the hemograph up and chuckled. ¡°Assuming this thing has any basis in reality. It could be just a bunch of bullshit like astrology, for all I know¡ª¡± ¡°Ward! Don¡¯t mock astrology. Good grief, but you¡¯ve got a lot to learn!¡± ¡°Uh-huh.¡± Ward stood with a grunt, then stuffed the hemograph into his pack and slung it over his shoulders. It certainly felt a lot lighter. ¡°Welp, I need a shower, a huge beer, and some pizza. Let¡¯s get the hell out of here.¡± With that, he began stomping up the stairs, two at a time. 20. Together Again 20 ¨C Together Again Grace continued to pester Ward as he climbed, and climb he did¡ªthe stairs seemed interminable. He¡¯d tuned her out for a while and was thinking about the stairs and their ceaseless upward climb, when she chimed in with a thought that echoed his own, ¡°There¡¯s no way we descended this far. There must be portal magic involved in this place.¡± ¡°Thought we all agreed on that earlier.¡± To mix things up, Ward went back to taking the steps two at a time, amazed, as ever, by his body¡¯s endurance. ¡°Just confirming the hypothesis. Come on! Quit ignoring me. It¡¯ll help pass the time. Answer this one: when I transported us here, and you thought you were dead, why were your sister and her family the only people on your mind? No lover? No kids? Never slipped one past the goalie?¡± Ward paused, turned, and looked into her face, noting the teasing grin, the sparkle of flames dancing behind her red-orange irises, and her perfectly coiffed hair falling to her spotless, wrinkle-free suit. ¡°Dammit, Grace. You got bored asking me about my nightmares, so now we¡¯re gonna talk about my other failures?¡± ¡°You wouldn¡¯t spill any details about those weird thoughts that wake you up at night! What¡¯s that image of an empty swimming pool that keeps coming up? What about the man yelling? The one you keep seeing with the goatee and the sloshing drink?¡± ¡°You¡¯re lucky I¡¯ve got thick skin. You know how many people have tried to rattle me in my life? I don¡¯t know what the hell you¡¯re talking about, and it won¡¯t matter how many times you repeat it. And before you get started, I won¡¯t talk about the Marines either.¡± It was the truth¡ªWard didn¡¯t know what she was talking about. Were they nightmares? Sure, he woke up in a sweat sometimes, heart hammering, but he couldn¡¯t ever remember the things he¡¯d been seeing in his dreams, at least not those times. He wracked his brain for memories of an empty swimming pool and came up blank. A guy sloshing a drink around? Too many people he¡¯d known might fit that description. ¡°Okay, if you won¡¯t talk about that stuff with me yet, tell me about someone who tried to rattle you.¡± ¡°Rattle me . . .¡± Ward tried to ignore the question, focusing on the stairs, taking one step and then another, breathing with each downward thrust of his legs. ¡°Well?¡± Grace had taken his pause as a signal that he was thinking, not ignoring her again. ¡°You know, I¡¯m trying to get into a rhythm here, trying to get into the zone.¡± He sighed and stopped again, then turned to face her, sitting on one of the narrow, tarnished steps. ¡°I¡¯ve had shitloads of people try to rattle me. Take your pick¡ªmy dad, my uncle, teachers, drill instructors, sergeants, my field training officer, bunches of asshole cops, and a hundred or so very clever suspects I¡¯ve sat down with in the interview room. Let¡¯s see, my ex-wife¡¯s attorney, my ex-wife, hmm, a judge or two, and a couple dozen lawyers for the defense. Shit, might be easier to name the people who didn¡¯t try to mess with me.¡± Grace sat down two steps below him, scooting her butt way too close to the dark abyss for Ward¡¯s comfort, all so she could turn to look at him more easily. ¡°Who would be on that list? Your sister?¡± ¡°Yeah, I guess that¡¯s about it.¡± Ward snorted. ¡°Nah, it isn¡¯t that bad. I¡¯ve had quite a few good friends over the years.¡± ¡°Well, I¡¯m glad you have a tough mentality. I think it¡¯s working out well for you here. That crawl through that cramped tunnel would have ruined some of my prior hosts.¡± ¡°You trying to butter me up?¡± ¡°No, but I think you and I should try to get along, don¡¯t you? I know I messed up, Ward. I knew I bit off more than I could chew when I tried to save you¡ªit might have been simpler to let you die; at least you would have had your anima to see you to . . . whatever¡¯s next. I¡¯m just trying to get to know you now, though, and I don¡¯t see anything wrong with pointing out that you¡¯ve done a good job in here.¡± ¡°Fair enough,¡± Ward sighed. ¡°For the record, I¡¯m kind of glad I¡¯m not dead. Maybe I¡¯d say differently if I knew what was next, but . . .¡± He let the thought die; Grace knew what he meant. He wanted to drink something, eat something, but he was running low on supplies, especially in the water department, which, of course, reminded him of another reason Grace was on his shitlist. ¡°Hey, seriously, don¡¯t you think you could¡¯ve told me to pack more water at least? Look, I¡¯m not a kid; I admit to some of the fault. I should¡¯ve known better than to go into some ¡®catacombs¡¯ without more supplies. I just didn¡¯t know what the . . . Ah, forget it.¡± He let his complaint die with a sigh, shaking his head. It wasn¡¯t worth it. ¡°I was going to say, no sense crying over spilled milk. We both learned a lot from this first challenge. You know I don¡¯t know much about this world either, right? I mean, I¡¯ve made that clear. I¡¯m operating off snippets of journal entries, rumors I remember from hundreds of years ago, and fairy tales I heard from the other people in my . . . family. Even the portal circle we used was made by that creep about to kill Christina. When you get out, we¡¯ll know how to prepare better for the next challenge.¡± ¡°If I get out.¡± Ward stretched his neck and leaned to the side, toward the precipitous drop at the center of the spiral so that he could look up the shaft. ¡°Holy shit!¡± Not two turns of the stairway above, he saw a tarnished copper platform. ¡°We made it!¡± Grace howled, following his gaze. ¡°Let¡¯s hope all this upward progress meant we¡¯re near the exit!¡± ¡°Yep.¡± Ward hopped to his feet and hurried up the last couple dozen steps until he stood on the disturbingly flexible copper platform at the top of the stairs. Rather than stand there and wait for the old bolts securing the platform to fail, he hurried for the door. It looked much like the ones he¡¯d seen elsewhere in the catacombs, and he pulled it open. It swung easily, if a bit noisily, grinding on its ancient green hinges and revealed a narrow, square space with a copper ladder affixed to the far wall. Twisting his neck to peer upward through the doorway, Ward saw yet another piece of tarnished copper hardware¡ªa hatch about twenty feet up. ¡°Looks like we¡¯re not at the top yet.¡± He mounted the ladder and started up, his backpack scraping the shaft behind him, barely able to fit in the confined space. ¡°Are you sure you shouldn¡¯t wait to examine things a bit more?¡± Grace called from the bottom of the shaft. ¡°Examine what?¡± Ward kept climbing. ¡°I guess . . .¡± she trailed off, and he heard her start to climb the ladder behind him. He wondered at that; why did she bother? Couldn¡¯t she just disappear into him or whatever she did, riding to the top and reappearing the next time he stood somewhere solid? Did she want to experience the climb? Did it make it easier for her to see things around him if she was ¡°out?¡± Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. He decided to voice his question. ¡°Hey, why don¡¯t you ride along inside my head?¡± ¡°I dunno. I like being out.¡± ¡°Huh.¡± Ward reached the top of the ladder and grabbed the long lever affixed to the copper trapdoor, wondering if he was about to murder himself with some kind of trap. He didn¡¯t see anything funny about the door; no wires or extra gears or anything. He didn¡¯t see any holes in the wall where spears or arrows or poisonous gas might erupt. More than that, he hadn¡¯t gotten any kind of written warning or heard any chimes. This didn¡¯t feel like an ¡°obstacle.¡± Having made those considerations, he yanked on the lever, listened to the bolts click as they slid out of their housings, and saw some pale light around the door''s seam. Ward pushed the trapdoor open with a clang and peered upward, trying to see what he could without poking his head through. The light up there differed from the ambient pale light that seemed to follow him through the catacombs. He saw flickers of yellow and orange that reminded him of a fire. Far above, he saw a domed copper ceiling and the edge of a curved wall but nothing else. He tilted his head down, looking along the side of the ladder to lock eyes with Grace. ¡°Doesn¡¯t look like we¡¯re out yet.¡± ¡°Are you going¡ª¡± she started to say, but Ward was already climbing, poking his head through the opening. The stone floor outside the trapdoor was a slightly different shade, more brown or tan than gray. When his eyes drifted around the room, he immediately saw Nevkin about fifteen feet distant on his hands and knees, staring his way. When he saw Ward, he reached up to adjust his glasses, then called out, ¡°Ward! Welcome to our prison.¡± ¡°Is that Ward? Be careful where you move, Ward!¡± He heard Haley¡¯s voice from the opposite direction and saw her standing, staring his way but not moving forward. ¡°Hey, guys,¡± Ward grunted as he pulled himself out of the hole. Once he was sitting on the edge, he got a better view of his surroundings. The room was circular, with no doors of any kind in the walls. When he let his eyes drift away from the walls, frowning at the lack of an exit, he saw the floor wasn¡¯t solid stone. It was divided into thirds by long strips of what looked like inlaid copper. They ran from the circular wall to the center of the room, where they met at a tarnished copper pillar that stretched thirty or forty feet up to the middle of the domed copper ceiling. He, Haley, and Nevkin were all in a different segment of the room. ¡°So, what¡¯s the deal here?¡± Nevkin held up a palm, and Ward saw it was red and blistered. It looked awful, though he could see it was smeared with some kind of salve and figured that moist sheen probably made it look worse than it was. ¡°Don¡¯t try to cross the copper lines.¡± ¡°It burned you?¡± Haley spoke up for him, ¡°Yes! It only burns living things, as far as we can tell. Nevkin and I tried throwing things across the lines, and they didn¡¯t burn.¡± ¡°Did you test it? I mean, on yourself?¡± Ward clambered to his feet and approached the copper metal strip separating his segment of the room from Nevkin¡¯s. ¡°Yes! Just with the tip of my knuckle, I didn¡¯t want to burn my palm or finger. It hurts a lot, Ward. I wouldn¡¯t recommend it. Careful!¡± she shouted the warning as Ward started extending his hand toward the line. He pulled it back and turned to look at her. ¡°I wasn¡¯t going to touch it. I just wanted to see if heat was coming off it.¡± ¡°No, no! It¡¯s not just the metal; it¡¯s the air above it, too! If you try to cross that plane, you¡¯ll burn.¡± ¡°Interesting,¡± Grace said. Ward turned to her and watched as she tried to step over the strip of copper. It looked like she was trying to walk through a solid wall. Her foot just wouldn¡¯t go past the copper. ¡°Some powerful boundary magic here, it seems. Much mana went into the creation of this room.¡± ¡°So, what are we supposed to do?¡± Ward turned and paced over to the opposite side of his section, to the line separating him from Haley. At the center of his triangular space, it was eight steps across. ¡°Careful!¡± Haley cried, ¡°Imagine if you tripped!¡± ¡°Uh-huh.¡± Ward turned and carefully followed the metal line to the central copper pillar. His space grew very narrow near the center of the room, so he stopped short and stretched out an arm to touch the metal. It felt normal, if a bit colder than he would have expected. ¡°I believe the catacombs were waiting for our third member, you. I was the first to arrive in this room, and then Haley appeared through a doorway that no longer exists. You¡¯ll notice the hole you climbed through is gone.¡± Ward whirled, and sure enough, the stones were smooth where the trapdoor had been. ¡°Dammit.¡± ¡°It would be interesting to see how this place was created. I wonder if true transformative magic is taking place or if we¡¯re all being influenced by powerful illusions. It could be that everyone who came into the catacombs together is standing in the same room, suffering from wild, mana-induced fantasies.¡± As Ward had seen him do a hundred times, Nevkin reached up and pushed his spectacles higher on the bridge of his nose. Ward turned to look around the room again. ¡°There wasn¡¯t something written on a stone or plaque or anything?¡± ¡°Not that either of us could see.¡± Haley moved to the center of her section and looked around slowly as though confirming that nothing new had popped up in her space. ¡°I don¡¯t see anything,¡± Grace added. As if in response to their words, a chime began to ring through the space, echoing oddly from the walls and high, domed ceiling¡ªding, ding. Ward turned in a slow circle, scrutinizing every inch of his space, but he couldn¡¯t see anything he was supposed to do. He couldn¡¯t run anywhere, he couldn¡¯t climb anything, and he couldn¡¯t jump up or down to any ledges or through any holes. As the chimes grew more frequent, he turned to Haley. ¡°Only logical thing we can do is hold still. There''s nowhere to go if we can¡¯t cross the copper.¡± ¡°Even if we could,¡± Nevkin added, ¡°we¡¯d just walk in a circle.¡± Ding, ding, ding, ding. Ward reached for his pistol grip, then thought better of it and drew the thick, heavy sword he¡¯d looted from Karl. He didn¡¯t know how to swordfight, but he could swing it or stab it. He¡¯d checked it out earlier and found the metal was sound, well-oiled steel, and the edge was sharp as hell. He felt good holding the heavy weapon in his fist. He saw Haley doing her dance, charging up her fists, and Nevkin had drawn his rapier. Ding, ding, ding, ding, ding, ding. As the last chime rang out, Ward saw the central copper pillar begin to rotate, and then it started to descend, sinking into the stone floor. He followed it upward with his eyes and saw that a round section of the ceiling was descending atop the pillar, revealing a circular, copper chamber, almost like an elevator, as it sank downward. Ward watched as the copper structure, built almost like a giant birdcage, came into view. He could see a latch and hinges and realized a gate was facing his section of the segmented room. Before he could say it, though, Nevkin announced, ¡°I see a gate in my section!¡± ¡°Me too!¡± Haley cried. ¡°All of us.¡± Ward continued to watch, and as the birdcage elevator descended a bit further, he saw something moving behind the bars. ¡°Uh, it¡¯s occupied.¡± ¡°You¡¯re right!¡± Haley¡¯s dance movements sped up, and Ward could see her fists glowing red, radiating heat waves. They looked like they¡¯d hurt like hell. ¡°What about you, Nevkin?¡± she called. ¡°The same. I believe we are all about to have an encounter.¡± Ward figured he was right. There was little chance the catacombs were about to send them something friendly, not on the heels of those chimes. He watched the cage lower a bit more, and then, when it was only about ten feet from the ground, he saw his incoming guest. It looked more lizard than man, hissing and leaping against the cage door, rattling the metal and screaming its animal hatred through a mouth filled with jagged, triangular teeth. The creature looked like it had to weigh at least three hundred pounds, and it shook that metal cage door like it was close to ripping it off the hinges. Ward studied the hulking shoulders, the red baleful eyes, the thick, scaled hide, and shaking his head, cussing his luck, he swapped the sword to his left hand and pulled out his pistol. 21. Level-Up 21 ¨C Level-Up The cage-like, copper elevator continued to descend, and when it clanked and rattled against the ground, the cage door cranked upward almost immediately, leaving nothing but five yards between Ward and the hulking lizard-man. Ward aimed the pistol, hesitating for just a moment as he locked eyes with those vertically-slit pupils in their bright orange irises. Could he just blast the guy for looking like a lizard? The thought fled his mind as the thing spread its maw, hissed, and dove at him. Ward¡¯s pistol barked twice, and the loud concussion of the bangs echoed and clanged off the copper elevator. The lizard¡¯s leap lost some momentum, and, not being alive, the poor thing had a hard time directing itself at Ward after he sidestepped. It slapped onto the ground with a wet thud, sliding for several feet, leaving a red smear in its wake. Ward looked at Haley and saw her dancing around a similar opponent, but her lizard-man was yellow and orange, not green. Ward stepped toward the copper line separating their areas and took aim. He waited for a clean shot that wouldn¡¯t endanger her, but Haley proved his concern misplaced. She slipped a lunge from the big lizard brute and punched it in the kidney. Apparently, her fists grew more potent the longer she did her strange dance to charge them up. In this case, her punch rippled through the lizard¡¯s flesh with the sound of a sledgehammer pounding a pot roast, and Ward watched as the creature¡¯s thick hide blackened in a circle around the impact, instantly turned to char by the heat. It squawked in shocked pain and stumbled forward, windmilling its big muscular arms. Ward watched as it fell, tumbling over the copper line separating Haley¡¯s section from Nevkin¡¯s, but it didn¡¯t burst into flames or get scorched. It scrambled to its knees, still writhing and croaking in agony, unable to stand. Ward turned his attention to Nevkin, circling back and forth with his reptilian opponent¡ªa yellow and blue variant. He¡¯d already given it several perforations, and red blood leaked from them in long rivulets that left smears on the stone floor. Nevkin seemed fine if a little strained, sweat beading on his pinched, focused face, narrowly dodging the creature¡¯s brutal swipes. Ward hurried closer to his boundary to Nevkin¡¯s space and lifted his gun, but Nevkin, through clenched jaws, snarled, ¡°Leave it! I can win.¡± Ward frowned but held off squeezing the trigger, watching the kid work his nimble swordplay. Ward was no expert on sword fighting or fencing, but it looked like Nevkin knew what he was doing. He seemed to anticipate when the big lizard-man was about to swipe his clawed hands at him and would dance back or sidestep. Every time, he gave his opponent a cut or a stab as payment for his troubles, and soon, the dozens of gashes and punctures seemed to take a toll. The stone floor was painted red in Nevkin¡¯s area, with most of the blood concentrated in a wide circle where Nevkin led the constantly attacking brute. The monster grew sluggish, and the ferocity of its lunges faded, giving Nevkin more room to lunge and stab, leaving deeper and deeper wounds. It reminded Ward of bullfights he¡¯d seen on TV, and though he wanted Nevkin to win, he couldn¡¯t help noticing the glint in his eye and the cruel twist of his lips as he grinned, watching his opponent slowly bleed out. Ward wasn¡¯t some kind of pacifist; he¡¯d proven that plenty of times in his life. Nonetheless, he didn¡¯t like seeing things suffer, and the poor brute seemed too stupid to stop walking into Nevkin¡¯s stabs. He was half-tempted to shoot the thing and put an end to it but held back, figuring he might need that bullet to save himself or one of the others before they got out of the catacombs. Eventually, the lizard-man couldn¡¯t stand any longer, and when it fell to its knees, the fury seemed to fade from its big yellow eyes, and it collapsed, sprawling out on its stomach as a large pool of blood fanned out around it. ¡°Hah!¡± Nevkin crowed, whipping his rapier back and forth with a flourish. He stepped back, observing the slow death of his opponent, and then Haley cried out in alarm. ¡°Nevkin! Look out!¡± Ward saw what she was yelling about, but it was too late for him to do anything about it. The lizard-man she¡¯d wounded had found a second wind, or a final burst of strength, and lunged up from where it lay, raking its long, sharp claws down the back of Nevkin¡¯s left leg, from his glutes to his calf. He cried out and stumbled forward, falling to his hands and knees beside the creature he¡¯d brought down. Luckily for him, both of the reptilian fighters were out of gas. The one who¡¯d clawed him was lying on its stomach, panting in rapid, short breaths, and the other was utterly still. ¡°You okay, kid?¡± Ward called. ¡°Not really!¡± he wheezed, clearly in pain. He turned to his side, and Ward could see the bloody shreds of his pants. He crawled over to where he¡¯d set his backpack. ¡°I need to bandage . . .¡± his words trailed off as he groaned in misery, digging through his bag. Ward contemplated throwing him his healing potion when the copper bird cage startled him with a loud, rattling series of clanks. He jerked his head toward it to see the gates had slammed shut, and it was slowly rising toward the ceiling. ¡°Shit!¡± ¡°I think you were supposed to get inside the cage after killing your opponents,¡± Grace observed. ¡°We should have gotten in!¡± Haley cried. ¡°Yeah. Are we screwed, or do you think it¡¯ll come back down?¡± Ward stared at Nevkin and then at Haley, but neither gave him an answer. She sat on the floor, eyes up, watching the copper elevator cage rise. He turned back to Nevkin and watched as he pulled his pants down, exposing the bloody gashes on the back of his leg. They looked deep. Ward could see the tell-tale signs of agony and looming shock¡ªhis jaw was clenched, sweat was rolling off his shaven head, and his breaths were coming in quick, short pants as he worked to smear big gobs of his wound salve into the cuts. Ward couldn¡¯t see how that would work; he was bleeding so profusely the salve would surely go to waste, washed out of the cuts by the blood. To his surprise, the flowing blood began to slow immediately; the creamy medicine must have had something to help with coagulation. After he¡¯d smeared the cuts, Nevkin dropped the tin of salve with a clatter and began winding long strips of bandaging around his leg. Ward looked at Grace as she stepped up beside him. ¡°Looks like he won¡¯t die from blood loss.¡± ¡°Yeah. That¡¯s good shit in that jar.¡± ¡°I think the elevator will come back down, but I also think you¡¯ll have more enemies to fight.¡± Ward looked at Grace and followed her gaze toward the copper elevator as it thunked into place in the ceiling, and the pillar stopped moving. ¡°What makes you say that?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know. It doesn¡¯t seem logical to leave you all in here if you win. If the elevator leaves, it¡¯s to teach a lesson, no? What good is a lesson if it doesn¡¯t give you another chance? I think it will keep challenging you until you enter the elevator and escape.¡± Before he could respond, Haley called out, ¡°Nevkin? Are you going to be all right? Do you need more salve?¡± ¡°No. I have enough. I¡¯m not going to be able to move very well, however. I fear another round of creatures like these will spell my doom.¡± ¡°Ward?¡± Haley turned to him. ¡°Do you think you can shoot his monster if more come down?¡± Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. ¡°Probably.¡± Ward sighed and flipped open the cylinder on his gun, popping out the two spent cartridges and replacing them from the dwindling supply in his pocket. With six in the revolver, he only had four more in his pocket. Something flickering caught his eye, and he looked at the dead lizard-man, where he saw a sizeable cloud of mana dust starting to rise out of the corpse. ¡°Hmm.¡± ¡°What?¡± Grace followed his gaze. ¡°Mana?¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± ¡°Well? See if you can gather more since your refinement!¡± Ward grunted his agreement and moved over to the corpse, glad the blood pool hadn¡¯t grown very large and also that the body hadn¡¯t started to stink yet. He squatted beside it and held out his left hand, still gripping his pistol with the right. Just as before, when he put his hand into the swarm of flickering blue motes, nothing seemed to happen at first. Then, he closed his eyes and concentrated, trying to find that calm, grounded state of mind he¡¯d been in the last two times he¡¯d collected mana. Just as when he¡¯d been with Lisa, it came quickly, and suddenly, his entire palm began to tingle and vibrate. The sensation was much more intense than before; rather than a few motes entering his flesh at a time, totaling nothing more than a dozen or so, it felt like hundreds were pouring into him. As the tingling in his palm faded and the motes began to flow into his wrist and then his arm, the sensation was so intense that Ward fell back on his butt and would have sprawled into the copper line separating his part of the room from Nevkin¡¯s if Grace hadn¡¯t inserted herself between him and the barrier. She caught him with her knees and pushed him up, all while Ward was utterly oblivious to his danger. He was too busy experiencing a kind of ecstatic rush unlike anything he¡¯d ever felt. The buzzing, tingling wave of pleasure passed from his arm into his chest and then slowly pulsed outward into the rest of him. Every part of Ward was tingling with energy, and he felt a kind of constant shiver of pleasure washing over him as the mana propagated through his body. When it finally subsided, he realized Grace and Haley were both speaking. ¡°. . . all right, you big doofus? You almost fried yourself! Open your eyes! I want to see what changed!¡± ¡°Ward, what are you doing? Are you ill? Nevkin, can you see what¡¯s going on with him?¡± Ward cleared his throat and coughed, slapping a hand to his tingling, buzzing face. As the sensation faded, he began to feel almost like he was half-drunk, which made him want to laugh. ¡°I¡¯m . . .¡± he paused and, again, had to suppress a laugh at the way his voice sounded in his ears. He tried again, ¡°I¡¯m good. I¡¯m fine.¡± A sharp, quick slap startled him, and he snapped his eyes open, scowling up at Grace. ¡°Shit, old man! Your eyes are positively glowing now! Bright! I think you skipped whatever rank that Lisa chick was at¡ªyour eyes are brighter!¡± As she spoke, Ward studied her, amazed by how different things looked. ¡®Different¡¯ was the wrong word; it was more like he was seeing more at once now. He could see the individual strands of Grace¡¯s eyebrows if he stared at them, and when he focused on her eye, the yellow, orange, and red flames flickering behind her irises were brighter and more vivid. Everything was sharper, he realized, as he turned his head left and right, staring at Nevkin and noting all the little spots of dried blood on his arms, hands, and face. The stench of copper hung heavy in the air, along with the faint odor of shit. Ward wrinkled his nose and looked over at Haley, locking his gaze with hers. Her soft, brown eyes seemed more detailed; Ward could see the pale and dark flecks that made up the intricate, beautiful patterns in her irises. Before he could stare too long, they widened with surprise, and she leaped to her feet. ¡°Your eyes!¡± ¡°Oh, brother! I guess there¡¯s no hiding it.¡± Grace, who¡¯d been squatting before him, staring into his face, stood up and regarded the corpse. ¡°I think you took a lot in because you just went through that refinement. That probably won¡¯t happen very often.¡± Ward hopped to his feet as the rush of pleasure and well-being continued to fade. He didn¡¯t know how much mana he¡¯d just absorbed, but plenty was still clouding around the lizard''s corpse. He stepped close to it again, holding out a hand. ¡°Are you gathering mana?¡± Nevkin asked from behind him. Ward didn¡¯t answer right away. He held his hand in the cloud of motes and sought that calm state of mind. It was harder to get there after what he¡¯d just experienced, but when he did, tuning out the rest of the world, nothing happened. He figured his body had taken all it could handle for the time being. Straightening up, he turned to Nevkin. ¡°Yeah.¡± The kid, grunting in pain from the effort, holding his injured leg out straight the whole time, turned to regard him. He frowned and rubbed his chin. ¡°I see you changed your clothes. Did you find a refinement potion?¡± ¡°Don¡¯t tell him!¡± Grace said. ¡°Refinement?¡± Ward asked, moving over to his pack in the vain hope that there was something in there he hadn¡¯t eaten or drunk yet. ¡°Yeah. You¡¯re not familiar? A potion that improves your body¡ªremoves weaknesses and unlocks potential.¡± Ward frowned, trying to decide if he agreed with Grace. Should he lie to the kid? What was the point? He rifled through the pack, much easier without the big wool blanket he¡¯d cut into his current ridiculous outfit. He lifted out the hemograph and, grinning softly to himself, sat down and pulled out his knife. A few seconds later, he was reading the updated data table:
Bloodline: Awakened Human (ah)
Accumulated Mana: 228
Mana Well: Copper
Mana Sensitivity: Iron
Mana Pathways: Copper
Vessel Capacity: Copper
Vessel Durability: ah + 13.11
Vessel Strength: ah + .08
Vessel Speed: ah + 9.31
Longevity remaining: ~62.33%
Anima: NIL
Ward¡¯s eyes widened when he saw how much accumulated mana he had. ¡°Holy shit.¡± Grace was quick to state the obvious, ¡°That¡¯s much higher than your old maximum!¡± ¡°Ward! Is everything all right?¡± Haley called. ¡°Ward?¡± Nevkin prompted, still waiting for an answer. ¡°Leave him be, Nevkin. If he wants to tell us more, he will.¡± Haley¡¯s admonishment to Nevkin made Ward like her all the more. He turned to Grace and slowly nodded. Softly, barely more than a whisper, he said, ¡°I guess that¡¯s what you call a level-up.¡± 22. Artifacts 22 ¨C Artifacts Ward pulled his pack over to put the hemograph away, and as he did so, he shifted the soft blue pouch containing the ball of lead, and it vibrated, rattling against the glass of his broken lamp. ¡°Huh.¡± He lifted it out of the pack, and the vibration intensified. ¡°Something¡¯s going on with this thing,¡± he muttered, digging his fingers into the opening and pulling it wide. He poured the ball into his hand, and the cold metal globe shivered with vibrations so rapid that it almost felt like it was floating on his skin. It felt like it was pulling to the left. He was aware of Haley and Nevkin staring at him, both waiting for answers. ¡°Just a minute, you two.¡± Ward turned his hand toward the left, and the vibrations in the ball grew more powerful, to the point he had to hold it tight, lest it find its way off the edge of his palm. It tugged him toward the corpse of the lizard-man, and when Ward stepped toward it, following the pull, it vibrated more intensely. ¡°This ball wants me to bring it over to¡ª¡± Suddenly, he realized what it wanted. The ball was trying to get into the cloud of mana. He knelt before the corpse and held the ball in the swirling motes, and they flowed into it like iron filings to a magnet. Not just a few or a couple hundred, but almost half of them. Thousands and thousands of mana motes surged into the metal ball, and when they stopped, the ball was slightly warm, and rather than flat gray, it shimmered with an inner blue glow. It was beautiful. ¡°Holy cow, Ward! Did that thing absorb the mana?¡± Grace was kneeling beside him, eyes glued to the softly glowing ball. ¡°Oh, gods!¡± Nevkin cried. Ward turned to see the young man standing right at the edge of his barrier, all his weight on his good leg. ¡°I think that¡¯s a mana-well. I¡¯m such a fool! I should¡¯ve realized.¡± Grace snapped her fingers and jumped up, clapping her hands. ¡°The kid¡¯s right! I knew I¡¯d read about things like that! They hold mana and can be used to enchant artifacts! I think you can use them in addition to your own mana, too, so you can cast spells that require more than you could normally cover from your personal pool.¡± ¡°Like a battery.¡± Ward smiled, gripping the ball. It was perfectly still now¡ªno vibrations whatsoever. He supposed it made sense that it was a ¡°mana-well,¡± and it sort of helped him understand that line item on his hemograph report; according to it, he had a ¡°mana well¡± inside him ranked at ¡°copper.¡± He didn¡¯t know what that ranking meant, but he supposed it was some kind of indicator of how much mana he could invoke from his personal supply. ¡°Ward, can you do me a favor?¡± Nevkin pulled a slender, polished white case from his belt pouch. It looked like it was made from ivory, about the size of a smartphone, if a bit thicker. ¡°What?¡± ¡°My father gave me this. It''s an artifact left to him by the last person in our family who was sensitive enough to mana to use it. She outgrew its use and passed it down to my father¡¯s father. Do you see these pale crystals on the top?¡± He pointed to three smooth, transparent stones on the top of the ivory case. Ward nodded. ¡°If I can get mana to flow into them like you did that mana-well, it will activate, and I can get the artifact out. It should help us with the next creatures in the copper cage. With it, I might not need you to shoot my opponent.¡± ¡°What do you want me to do?¡± ¡°Do you trust this guy?¡± Grace stood between Ward and Nevkin and folded her arms, scowling. Ward shrugged but didn¡¯t answer aloud. ¡°If you could, if you could roll that mana-well to me, I could use it to activate my artifact.¡± Nevkin licked his lips, panting raggedly, clearly still in pain. ¡°Don¡¯t you dare!¡± Grace hissed. ¡°Why don¡¯t you toss that thing to me, Nevkin, and I¡¯ll activate it for you.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not that easy, I¡¯m afraid. It¡¯s bound to my b¡ª¡± He winced and shifted, reaching back to press against his bandages. He looked back to Ward, his eyes bloodshot. ¡°My bloodline.¡± ¡°I dunno, Nevkin. This thing seems pretty valuable¡ª¡± ¡°Are you truly going to deny me?¡± Nevkin hissed. ¡°We helped to earn that orb!¡± He gestured to Haley. ¡°I¡¯m not asking to keep it! I just want to use it for a moment. Would you rather I die? Those creatures are fast¡ªare you certain you can slay yours and mine before I¡¯m mauled so badly I can¡¯t recover?¡± Ward stared at the young man, lying prone, his leg wrapped in bloody bandages, his face and tattooed head drenched in sweat. He looked bad, and Ward, despite his ingrained distrust of people, found himself empathizing with his situation. How would he feel? The story about the family heirloom seemed a little like bullshit to him, but . . . ¡°Haley, does that make sense? Can an ¡®artifact¡¯ be tied to a person¡¯s bloodline?¡± ¡°Um, I don¡¯t know, Ward. I¡¯ve only ever dealt with common enchanted devices like glowstones and other utility items.¡± Ward looked at her, trying to gauge her opinion on the matter. Her eyes were wide with concern as she stared at their downed companion. ¡°You better send this right back to me, kid.¡± Ward started toward the barrier. Again, Grace tried to intervene, ¡°You idiot. You¡¯re truly going to give that treasure to him? He¡¯s a strange guy, Ward! He¡¯s snide! He¡¯s conniving! Do you¡ª¡± ¡°Hush,¡± Ward growled. To cover, he addressed Nevkin, but actually meant the words for Grace, ¡°Listen, I¡¯m not sure I trust you, but if you got massacred ¡®cause I wouldn¡¯t let you borrow this item that I can¡¯t even really use yet, then that¡¯d make me a real heel, you know?¡± ¡°Thank you, Ward! I won¡¯t let you down. I think everyone will be happier when I¡¯ve unlocked my artifact!¡± ¡°What does it do?¡± Haley called, making Ward feel like an idiot for not asking the same thing. ¡°I . . .¡± Nevkin frowned and held up the box. ¡°I don¡¯t know exactly. I just know it helped my ancestor ascend all the way to Primus.¡± Ward rubbed his thumb over the mana-well as he held it in his palm, pleased by how it seemed to thrum with possibility. ¡°I¡¯ve heard that before¡ª¡®Primus.¡¯ Where is that?¡± ¡°It¡¯s the name of the seventh Vainglory world,¡± Haley answered. ¡°Listen,¡± Nevkin said, seeing Ward¡¯s mind still wasn¡¯t made up. ¡°I can¡¯t see mana the way you can. I can see the glow in that mana-well, however. I¡¯m pretty sure I can use it to activate my artifact, but I won¡¯t be able to refill it. It takes a sorcerer to do that. So you see? The well isn¡¯t something I can use long-term. Once it¡¯s empty, it would be useless to me. I¡¯ll give it back, Ward.¡± The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. ¡°Don¡¯t make me regret this, kid.¡± With a twinge of regret, Ward knelt and rolled the heavy, glowing, billiard-ball-sized mana-well straight to Nevkin. ¡°Thank you!¡± Nevkin cried as he caught it against his chest and then lifted it with a gleam in his eyes. He immediately held it to his small ivory box, staring intently for several seconds. Ward held his breath as he watched. Haley cleared her throat. ¡°Nothing¡¯s happening.¡± ¡°Patience. I¡¯m trying to find the right position.¡± Nevkin¡¯s voice was shaky, and Ward could tell the kid was ready to collapse. Frowning in concentration, Nevkin gently rotated the mana well on the box, moving it from one gem to another. Then, he flipped the box and held the well against what looked like carved lettering. Suddenly, one of the gems on the box began to flash with a faint pink light. ¡°It¡¯s working!¡± Nevkin¡¯s voice rose excitedly, cracking almost comically. Ward frowned as he heard a high-pitched note, almost like something you¡¯d hear from a flute, begin to warble out of the box. The note continued to grow in volume, and in a matter of seconds, a second note joined it, creating a weird, discordant harmony. Ward saw that the first gem was steadily glowing now, and a second had begun to flicker. Nevkin looked mad with giddiness as he watched, cupping the mana-well and box before him like a miser clutching his precious jewels. A few minutes later, a third note joined the first two, and the box began to shake in his hands. ¡°I¡¯ve done it!¡± Nevkin gasped, and Ward watched the box¡¯s three gems blaze with pink light. Nevkin struggled into a sitting position and set the mana-well in his lap, cupping the box with both hands. The discordant notes were loud, and they echoed through the chamber as the pink gems pulsed brightly. ¡°I don¡¯t like that sound, Nevkin!¡± Haley yelled. ¡°Nonsense! It¡¯s beautiful! It¡¯s amazing!¡± He turned to Ward, and a grin stretched his lips madly. The kid was usually reticent and spoke in soft tones. He¡¯d never exposed his teeth like that before, and, for the first time, Ward noticed that, while straight and white, they were all a little too pointed. He¡¯d seen pictures of people who did that¡ªfiled their teeth to points. In Nevkin¡¯s mad leer, they were certainly off-putting. Ward could see the sweat on his head, the glee in his eyes, and how his hands shook as he fumbled with the box. ¡°Thank you, Ward! I¡¯m sorry I lied.¡± ¡°You lied?¡± Haley cried. Ward looked at her, saw the flush of anger in her cheeks, and shook his head, chuckling. ¡°I had a feeling he was full of shit. That¡¯s no heirloom, is it? Did you find that right before coming into this room?¡± ¡°Yes. I lied because I feared you might steal the artifact. I thought if you believed it was a family heirloom tied to my bloodline¡ª¡± ¡°I¡¯d let you activate it. Yeah, I figured. Whatever, kid.¡± Ward sighed and sat down, staring at the ceiling, wondering how long they¡¯d have before the elevator came down again. ¡°Well? What is it?¡± Haley called out. ¡°I don¡¯t know. Let me get this case open . . .¡± Nevkin trailed off as he held the case up, examining it from every angle. Grace sighed and sat down in front of him. ¡°I knew you shouldn¡¯t have given him that mana-well.¡± ¡°Spilt milk. I don¡¯t think he can see mana¡ªthat much was true. You¡¯ve never seen him gather it, have you?¡± Ward lay back on his left elbow, watching Nevkin, curious to see what he¡¯d pull from the box. ¡°Aha!¡± Nevkin said, and with a soft click, the music emitting from the box ceased, and Ward could see him gently lift the lid, looking within. ¡°What have we¡ªWhat is¡ªArgh!¡± Something flew out of the box, attaching to Nevkin¡¯s chin and scurrying up toward his lips. He slapped at it, trying to hold it back, his hands blocking Ward¡¯s view. He struggled and groaned, then screamed as he flopped back. Ward just caught a glimpse of something that glinted metallically in the light as it slipped into his mouth. Nevkin continued to groan, thrashing and flopping. ¡°Nevkin!¡± Haley screamed, running to the other side of her section to get a better look at his face. Ward couldn¡¯t see much beyond Nevkin¡¯s kicking legs, so he leaped up and stepped toward the barrier. Nevkin continued to thrash, and it was clear that his coughing sputters were spraying blood and gobs of flesh. Was something ripping his mouth apart? Before Ward could wonder much more, Nevkin fell still, and his screams ceased. ¡°Nevkin? What happened? Are you okay? Ward, you should throw him your healing potion!¡± ¡°No,¡± Nevkin growled, and his voice was different. It was rich and resonant. It echoed through the chamber with a finality that left no room for argument. ¡°I am not injured.¡± ¡°But the blood¡ª¡± ¡°My old tongue has been removed. I understand the artifact now.¡± He sat up, spat one more gob of flesh upon the stones, and smiled a macabre, bloody grin. He lifted the empty ivory case and tossed it to Ward. Then he scooped up the mana-well. ¡°Thank you, Ward. This will come in handy.¡± His voice was less resonant now that he spoke in a normal tone, but it was still different¡ªricher, deeper. ¡°What happened?¡± Haley asked. ¡°What¡¯s the artifact?¡± ¡°I need that ball back,¡± Ward said at the same time. Nevkin grunted and clambered to his feet, struggling not to bend his injured leg. ¡°I have acquired a rare and powerful artifact, Ward and Haley.¡± He opened his mouth wide and stuck out his tongue. Haley gasped, and Ward cussed¡ªthe kid¡¯s tongue moved like a natural, fleshy appendage, but it gleamed like silver. He laughed as he pulled it back in. ¡°The case labels it the Warlock¡¯s Silver Tongue. It¡¯s quite robust, as you can no doubt hear from the strength of my voice. I shouldn¡¯t struggle to utter the few words of power I¡¯ve learned. Tell me, Ward, do you know any of the words?¡± Ward folded his arms and scowled. He could already tell the little prick wasn¡¯t planning to give him back the mana-well. He reached for his pistol, drawing it from its holster. ¡°I don¡¯t like being stolen from, kid.¡± ¡°Kid? Hah! You think you can threaten me with that pistol, Ward? Imagine squandering a gift like you have! Such a talent with mana manipulation, and you haven¡¯t learned a single word? In any case, be at ease. I will borrow this power well to deal with the creature that emerges from the cage. Thanks to my new tongue, I may be able to utter some words now, but unlike you, I wasn¡¯t born with the gift to harvest mana. I¡¯ll use this to good effect.¡± He lifted the glowing ball of metal in his left hand. ¡°Shoot him, Ward. Shoot that thieving, lying, sneaky little rat!¡± Grace pounded her fists against the invisible barrier that held her in Ward¡¯s section of the room. ¡°If I could get over there . . . if I had a body . . .¡± her muttered threats trailed off. ¡°Nevkin, you should have asked Ward. He would have let you borrow it.¡± Haley sounded angry, but her voice rose in a questioning note, probably expecting Ward to say something to confirm the statement. He didn¡¯t. He was pissed, but he wasn¡¯t pissed enough to blast the kid. Anything might go in these catacombs, but Ward wasn¡¯t someone who could kill a young man for taking an item he didn¡¯t know how to use, especially if he was promising to give it back. Still, if the little shit hadn¡¯t made that promise¡ª His red-tinted thoughts were cut off as the pillar began to turn and the copper cage descended from the ceiling. ¡°After the fight then, Nevkin.¡± He turned to Haley. ¡°Don¡¯t forget to get into the cage as soon as your lizard dies!¡± ¡°Right!¡± She¡¯d already begun her dance, powering up her fists. Ward watched her for a few seconds, then looked up at the cage slowly descending from the ceiling. Despite his irritation at the kid, he asked, ¡°Nevkin, you good? You sure you got yours?¡± ¡°I am good.¡± Something in his tone made Ward look at him again. He¡¯d picked up his pack, slung it over his shoulder, and stared at the cage as it lowered, squinting through his spectacles. ¡°What are you gonna do?¡± Ward asked, a sinking feeling in his gut making him want to do something¡ªanything¡ªto get Nevkin to look his way and stop whatever he was up to. ¡°As you see,¡± Nevkin said, pointing, ¡°the cage is now clear of the ceiling and an opening there lies. Farewell, Ward and Haley. Learn this lesson well¡ªin Vainglory, power, and the initiative to use it, will see you to glory.¡± With that, he lifted the softly glowing power well and uttered sounds that echoed through the room, shaking Ward¡¯s eardrums like those the monks fighting in Tarnish had spoken. It was different this time, however. Ward didn¡¯t wince in pain, and he could hear actual words inside those sounds: "Thravik-thragh.¡± ¡°Hold on¡ª¡± Ward started to say, but Nevkin had burst into a cloud of shimmering silver smoke that streamed up toward the hole in the ceiling and out through it. In a flash, Ward caught a glimpse of Nevkin as the smoke disappeared, and then he could only see darkness through the hole again. ¡°That little asshole,¡± he growled as the cage full of monsters descended to the ground with a metallic thunk, and the doors began to rattle open. 23. The Words are Fleeting 23 ¨C The Words Are Fleeting ¡°He stole your mana-well! That little bastard!¡± Grace clenched her fists, her face red, her eyes ablaze. Ward couldn¡¯t spare her any attention; the gate had opened, and another hulking lizard-man dove toward him. He cranked off one, two, three rounds, and he was pretty sure they all hit, but whatever luck had sent his bullets into the first lizard warrior¡¯s vital organs wasn¡¯t with him this time; the great, bloody, scaled creature barreled into him, knocking him to the ground. It ripped both sets of claws down the front of his armored shirt. The swipe pulled rings of metal from his chest, sending them tinkling over the stone floor, and Ward slid backward on his butt. He was dazed by the blow, the wind knocked from his lungs. Even so, he got his arms up between himself and the lizard-man¡¯s frenzied follow-up attacks, blocking much of the damage with the shirt¡¯s thick leather and ring-covered sleeves. He managed to pull a knee back and plant his foot against his attacker¡¯s waist, shoving with all his might. As the lizard man stumbled back, Ward lifted his bloody fist, still clutching his trusty pistol, and fired two more rounds into the monster. This time, it fell, blood rapidly pumping out of at least one of the bullet holes, making a wide pool that merged with the coagulated puddle of its kin. Grace jumped in front of his face, trying to get his attention. ¡°Your friend is fighting two of them!¡± Ward got to his feet, his body vibrating with adrenaline as he hurried toward the barrier between his section and Haley¡¯s. Haley was ducking and backstepping, trying to avoid the swipes of two hulking lizard-men. One of them was pitch black with orange spots, and Ward didn¡¯t like the look of his hooked claws as they dripped something caustic onto the stone floor. Haley was already bleeding from painful-looking gashes on her left shoulder, but the other lizard man, a standard green variety, was limping around on a leg that looked near useless. Ward fired off his last round, putting one right into the green guy¡¯s lower back. As the lizard-man coughed up a gout of blood and stumbled forward, Ward flicked open his gun¡¯s cylinder, shook out the empty brass, and started loading up his last four bullets. Haley ducked a swipe from the Gila monster-looking lizard-man, then swept the green one¡¯s leg, sending it to the floor. Ward slid his bullets into their chambers, flicked his wrist to close it up, then pulled the hammer back, taking aim. Haley¡¯s back was to him, the lizard on the other side of her, so he held his fire, waiting. Haley¡¯s fists weren¡¯t making the air shimmer anymore; she¡¯d used up her charge of magical heat. That aside, she was a good fighter. She kept slipping those swipes and bites, barely moving but making the hulking brute waste a lot of energy and effort with each attempt. She darted to the left, circling her opponent, and Ward got ready to fire. Just then, the green one, motionless all this time, decided it wasn¡¯t done trying to kill her. It flopped from its stomach to its side and lashed out with its arm, catching Haley¡¯s heel. The black and orange lizard dove at her, and Ward pulled the trigger. Gila monster¡¯s claws hooked into Haley¡¯s thigh, Ward¡¯s bullet tore through its neck, and they both fell to the ground. The thing twitched and croaked, but blood was gushing from its neck like a faucet, so it didn¡¯t get anywhere. The green one started to get up, so Ward spent another precious bullet, finishing him off. ¡°That¡¯s all of ¡®em; they¡¯re dead! Get in the cage, Haley!¡± Ward started to follow his own advice, running for the cage, arching an eyebrow in amusement when he saw Grace already there. ¡°Ward!¡± Haley¡¯s voice was strained, thready, and weak. ¡°Yeah? Hurry!¡± ¡°I can¡¯t. I can¡¯t move. The . . . thing. It had poisoned claws. I can¡¯t move my body.¡± ¡°Ah, dammit!¡± Ward punched the copper elevator wall with a resounding clang. They only had a minute or so before the thing closed up. Grace stepped forward, and Ward could see she was debating whether she should speak or not. ¡°Ward, I know I¡¯m going to regret saying this, but I think I can help you say the words the thief used. You might survive it now that you¡¯ve been through that refinement.¡± ¡°What? Why would I¡ª¡± Belatedly, he connected the dots. He could use the magic words to get over the copper line to Haley. He gave Grace an appreciative nod. He was impressed; not long ago, he would have bet she¡¯d encourage him to leave the girl behind. ¡°Let¡¯s do it.¡± ¡°Get your healing potion ready¡ªthe words might wound you badly.¡± Her warning finally drove home a point that Ward had let roll off his brain a few times without fully registering: the words of power were dangerous to use, especially for people whose ¡°vessels¡± weren¡¯t up to the task. Nodding, he whirled around, grabbed his pack, stuffed his hand into the side pocket where he¡¯d left the potion, and pulled it out. As he shrugged into the straps, Grace said, ¡°Now, face Haley and carefully repeat after me. Say it with authority.¡± Ward nodded again, and Grace spoke slowly and very clearly, enunciating every syllable, ¡°Thravik-thragh.¡± Ward cleared his throat and spoke, trying to hurry so they didn¡¯t miss the elevator again, ¡°Thravik-thragh!¡± Though he said the words like any others, they ground out of his throat like he was coughing up a ball of sandpaper. They flew from his lips like things alive, crashing and echoing off the stone walls, bouncing off the copper elevator like a tin can full of firecrackers. Ward felt a cold wave go through his body, felt himself stretch to bursting, saw his vision go red as blood vessels exploded in his eyes, and then everything went gray and red. He spun through the air, flipping and twirling and spinning toward Haley, toward the spot he¡¯d been staring at, and when he stopped moving, he fell to the ground, coughing and hacking out chunks of bloody, torn flesh. ¡°Drink the potion, idiot!¡± Grace screamed in his ear. Ward, hands shaking like he¡¯d been working a jackhammer all day, ripped the cork out of the little potion. He struggled at first, having a hard time seeing what he was doing with all the blood in his eyes, but he got it, and then he slammed the shot of liquid into his mouth and gulped it down. It was sweet and tart, and as it coursed down his throat, warmth exploded through his body, and he instantly felt better. His hands stopped shaking, his vision cleared, and he felt a surge of strength. With the healing energy came clarity of thought and a focus on action. Ward leaped to his feet, stooped to scoop Haley into his arms, and charged for the elevator. He got inside with a dozen seconds to spare, and when the cage rattled closed, he let out a whoop. ¡°Hell, yes!¡± ¡°My pack,¡± Haley groaned, still cradled in Ward¡¯s arms. He looked down at her and saw her eyes rolling to the side, staring at her forlorn backpack as the elevator began to click-clack its way upward. ¡°Sorry about that! Shit!¡± ¡°It¡¯s okay. Thanks for getting me. How?¡± Her voice was shaky and hoarse, and Ward could feel her trembling with shivers. He hoped the poison that had paralyzed her wasn¡¯t going to make her sick, too. ¡°I used that little jerk¡¯s words of power! I frickin turned into smoke!¡± Ward practically crowed the announcement; he was pumped with the success of his first attempt at magic. ¡°No, you didn¡¯t,¡± Grace laughed, suddenly standing between him and the cage door. ¡°You sprayed through the air like a splash of blood. It was . . . disgusting.¡± ¡°Huh?¡± ¡°It probably has something to do with your mastery of those words. I mean, like, your total lack of it. I¡¯m not sure how it works, but I know wizards have to spend a lot of time mastering the words to use them correctly. Not to mention, you almost killed yourself; you had enough mana, but your body wasn¡¯t ready for that spell.¡± Ward realized Haley had been muttering something softly, but he¡¯d missed most of it while Grace spoke, ¡°. . . hope we can catch him.¡± Ward didn¡¯t need help figuring out who she meant. ¡°Me too, Haley. I hope we catch that little rat, too.¡± He sighed, leaning back against the cage wall as it continued its slow climb toward the ceiling. Haley¡¯s shivering hadn¡¯t stopped, and every now and then, she¡¯d shudder violently in his arms. When he looked at her face, her skin was wan and damp with perspiration, and though her eyes were closed, she didn¡¯t seem to be resting peacefully. He saw Grace peering closely at her, too. ¡°You think she¡¯ll be all right?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know. I¡¯ve seen many fevers in my life, and this looks like a bad one. If we were back on modern-day Earth, I¡¯d say to take her to an emergency room. Too bad you left her backpack behind. Some of that healing salve on those infected claw marks might help.¡± While she spoke, the lighting changed, and Ward realized they¡¯d passed through the ceiling and into a new space. It was much darker, and he could only see about five feet beyond the cage door. You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. ¡°This is where Nevkin ditched us.¡± Peering into the shadows, all he could see was a smooth slate floor. The rectangular tiles were pale and fitted together so closely that no grout or mortar was evident. The elevator continued to rise, and as more and more of it lifted into the new room, Ward¡¯s view expanded until he saw a full ten feet beyond the cage door. The floor looked the same other than some big, dark splotches that appeared to be dried blood. Ward braced himself, wondering if he should set Haley down, but as the elevator floor drew level with the tiles, it surprised him by continuing to rise. Soon, they were ten feet up, and Ward¡¯s view of the new room was gone¡ªnothing but blackness surrounded the metal cage as it continued to ratchet upward. Grace¡¯s words echoed his thoughts: "We¡¯re going past the elevator¡¯s staging area. I wonder if that little thief boned himself by teleporting into that room. What if it¡¯s filled with lizard men?¡± ¡°You know, I don¡¯t generally wish horrible fates on people, especially kids, but that sounds almost poetic.¡± Grace sighed. ¡°He¡¯s not a kid. He¡¯s probably in his twenties.¡± ¡°Well, to me, he seemed like a kid, all right?¡± Haley shivered again, violently, and Ward pulled her a little tighter to his chest. ¡°Hang in there, kiddo.¡± Grace groaned. ¡°Again, with the kid business¡ª¡± ¡°You¡¯re the one who keeps calling me ¡®old man.¡¯ Why are you surprised?¡± When Grace didn¡¯t reply, Ward shifted, leaning a shoulder against the cool metal wall of the elevator. ¡°My arms are getting tired. Too bad there¡¯s not a bench or chair or something in here. I don¡¯t want to set her on the floor.¡± ¡°Wow. Good thing she¡¯s out of it; wouldn¡¯t want the damsel to know her hero was whining about his tired arms as he held her aloft¡ª¡± ¡°Glad you haven¡¯t lost your witty sense of banter.¡± Ward craned his neck, trying to peer up through the bars of the cage door. ¡°Can¡¯t see shit. Feels like we¡¯re going pretty high, though.¡± ¡°Maybe. Could be an optical illusion. Maybe the elevator is just ten feet above the floor, holding still while those gears click against the spinning copper pillar.¡± ¡°Nah, that wouldn¡¯t make any sense.¡± ¡°Who says it needs to make sense?¡± When Ward didn¡¯t respond but continued staring into the darkness through the copper bars, she cleared her throat, almost sounding nervous. ¡°You know, I might have sounded mocking when I said you didn¡¯t turn into smoke or whatever, but it¡¯s kind of a miracle that you pulled that spell off on your first try.¡± ¡°Seriously?¡± ¡°Yeah. Christina inherited a book with one of the words that supposedly lets you plant ideas in the heads of unsuspecting people. As I told you, she had some talent, and despite the almost nonexistence of mana on Earth, she¡¯d managed to gather enough that she was trying to use the word. Despite a hundred attempts and just as many migraines and bloody noses, she never got it right.¡± ¡°What was the word?¡± Ward was eager to try to add another to his repertoire. ¡°That¡¯s the thing . . .¡± Grace frowned and scratched her head. ¡°I heard her try to say it all those times. I saw it written on the pages of her grandfather¡¯s journal. Despite that, I can¡¯t, for the life of me, remember anything about it.¡± ¡°Seriously?¡± ¡°Yeah. I¡¯m not sure if it¡¯s just my nature or what, but¡ªWard, I can¡¯t even remember the words you just used.¡± ¡°You can¡¯t?¡± Ward frowned because, as she confessed her lapse of memory, he tried to think of the words and came up blank. ¡°What the hell? Neither can I!¡± ¡°Maybe that¡¯s part of mastering the words¡ªlearning how to memorize them. Maybe that¡¯s why grimoires are a thing. Maybe they can¡¯t be remembered. I vaguely recall reading something along the lines of ¡®the words are fleeting.¡¯ I¡¯m sorry I don¡¯t know more, but at least we held onto Nevkin¡¯s words long enough to escape.¡± Ward closed his eyes and groaned. With his hands occupied holding Haley, he found an outlet to his frustration by banging his forehead against the cold metal bars of the cage door¡ªnot hard, just enough to rattle them and give him some sense of release. ¡°I know that spell messed me up, but it was so damn cool. I kind of hoped I¡¯d be able to practice it somehow. How the hell did that little weasel pull it off without bleeding his guts out?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know. I guess that artifact, the tongue, did all the work. Well, that and the mana-well you gave him.¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t give¡ª¡± Ward groaned and banged his forehead against the bar a little harder. ¡°Screw it. I guess I did. What a frickin¡¯ dumbass!¡± ¡°Don¡¯t beat yourself up. Come on, Ward, you¡¯re worrying me. You¡¯re usually pretty upbeat.¡± ¡°Eh, don¡¯t worry. I¡¯m just annoyed. You know, having someone steal from you is a pretty shitty feeling. Reminds of when I used to rent an apartment in Queen Anne. Didn¡¯t have a garage parking spot, and my car got broken into regularly. Got to the point I stopped locking the doors, hoping the thieving bastards would at least stop smashing the window. Well, that¡¯s beside the point. The point I¡¯m trying to get at is that the first time, it really pissed me off.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve had hosts who were robbed. I know how violated it makes people feel¡ª¡± Grace stopped short and looked up through the bars. ¡°Light!¡± Ward followed her gaze and saw she was right, which made him wonder if he¡¯d noticed the light first but hadn¡¯t registered it consciously. He decided that had to be it; hadn¡¯t Grace said she couldn¡¯t see what he didn¡¯t see? He watched as the circle of soft yellow light grew larger and larger, and then the top of the elevator cage passed through an opening, and a bright, warm, new space opened up outside the cage door. It was the first room in the dungeon where Ward could see the source of illumination¡ªgas lamps hung from wood-paneled walls, shedding their yellow-orange light onto a rich red carpet and plush, overstuffed leather couches. Ward was interrupted from further visual explorations as the elevator lurched to a stop, and the copper cage door rattled open. He stepped out, cautiously looking around, half expecting to be jumped by another frog or lizard-man. No such violence awaited, though, and as he turned in a slow circle, all he saw were more wooden walls, cozy-looking chairs and couches, and, on the other side of the elevator, a copper chest twice the size of the ones he and his companions had found earlier. Still carrying Haley, Ward walked toward it and noted a plaque on the wall behind it. It took him a minute to realize it, but it finally registered to him that the chest and plaque were the first copper things in the entire catacombs that weren¡¯t tarnished; they were burnished to a glossy sheen that warmly reflected the lamp light. When he read the plaque, he felt his usual good mood returning as a grin revealed his teeth. As if he needed the help, Grace read it aloud, ¡°Rest and enjoy your reward, victors.¡± ¡°Hell yeah! We¡¯re done?¡± Ward spun around in a circle, trying to see how he and Haley were supposed to leave. ¡°Where¡¯s the door, then?¡± ¡°Well, you haven¡¯t rested or enjoyed your reward yet. Maybe something will open when you do.¡± Ward stepped to the nearest couch and gently deposited Haley into its embrace. He touched her forehead and winced when he felt the heat. He slid his backpack off his shoulders as Grace called out, ¡°There¡¯s a basket here filled with fruit and drinks.¡± Ward¡¯s mouth began to salivate at the thought, and he looked over at her. She was standing next to a small table, and sure enough, a wicker basket sat atop it. Shiny purple-red fruits were piled inside around a couple of bottles that looked like they might be full of wine. Ward swallowed, afraid he¡¯d start drooling if he weren¡¯t careful. He snatched up one of the fruits, about the size of an overlarge plum, and when he bit into it, the similarity continued; it tasted like a ripe, perfect plum. Ward sucked at the juice and got to work methodically chewing every ounce of meat off the pit. ¡°Haha! Plums inside a mysterious catacomb in a distant world. What are the odds?¡± ¡°What are the odds people look like humans all over the universe?¡± ¡°Huh? Seriously?¡± ¡°Well, some of the travel journals one of my hosts found indicated as much. It¡¯s almost like you all originated in a similar place and propagated through the worlds somehow. Maybe these plums are similar.¡± ¡°Whatever. They¡¯re delicious.¡± Ward picked up one of the big, dark green bottles and yanked the cork out with his teeth. He took a long, deep sniff of the contents, and his grin widened. ¡°Smells like wine!¡± ¡°Careful¡ª¡± Grace started to say, but too late; Ward took a long, deep pull from the bottle, swallowing a gulp of the smooth, refreshing liquid. ¡°That¡¯s either damn good wine, or I¡¯m just so thirsty anything would be good.¡± He turned, bottle in one hand and two plums in the other, and returned to the couch where Haley lay, shivering and feverish. ¡°Gonna try to get her to drink a little.¡± He pulled the cushion from another couch, propped it under her head, and then tipped the bottle to her lips. ¡°Come on, kid. Drink some of this. It¡¯s not like normal wine¡ªit¡¯s refreshing.¡± She seemed to be completely insensate, but when he tilted the bottle, letting a thin trickle of the fluid pour between her lips, her reflexes took over, and she swallowed. ¡°Good!¡± He continued delivering small sips to her while he munched on another plum. Grace watched for a few minutes, then crossed her arms and walked around the end of the couch. ¡°I wonder if you should open this chest.¡± Ward looked at her, at the big copper chest, and then at the plaque again. ¡°It says to rest, right? I don¡¯t think it¡¯s going to disappear.¡± He yawned, then took another long drink from the green bottle. ¡°I¡¯m beat, and I think we should see if Haley wakes up before we open it.¡± Grace unfolded her arms and sat on the chest, tsking her tongue. ¡°Seriously? What if someone else gets delivered to this room? What if it does disappear? Don¡¯t you trust yourself to share with Haley?¡± Ward looked at Haley and was heartened to see some color in her cheeks and that her shivers had subsided. He felt her forehead, and it felt noticeably cooler. ¡°I think she¡¯s getting better.¡± He stood up, set the bottle on a side table, and ate his third plum. ¡°If you¡¯re going to be that way, all right, let¡¯s open the damn thing.¡± 24. Rest and Recovery 24 ¨C Rest and Recovery Ward approached the big chest, probably about two feet square and ten inches deep. ¡°I hope this means Nevkin missed out on a reward.¡± ¡°If he found a way out of the catacombs, I don¡¯t think it was through here.¡± Grace squatted near the chest, staring at it closely, peering at the various angles. She couldn¡¯t see the rear; it was situated right against the wall. Ward was feeling very relaxed and satisfied after downing the healing potion earlier, eating the plums, and drinking the refreshing wine. He wanted to lie down on a couch and get some rest. He had no idea how long he¡¯d been in the catacombs, but it felt like he¡¯d been up for days. That said, he didn¡¯t mess around with the chest; he knelt before it, flipped up the latch, and lifted the lid. ¡°Don¡¯t you think¡ª¡± ¡°No,¡± Ward chuckled as the lid clanged against the stone wall. ¡°Why trap a chest under a plaque that says to enjoy your reward?¡± ¡°To be cruel? To test how careless people are.¡± ¡°Nah, I feel like the people who made this place had a kind of twisted sense of fairness. They wouldn¡¯t call us ¡®victors¡¯ if we weren¡¯t done being tested.¡± Ward looked into the chest and saw a neatly folded bolt of silky blue cloth. ¡°Huh.¡± He lifted it from the chest, noting its dense weight and buttery-smooth texture. ¡°Some fine cloth?¡± Grace rubbed it between her fingers and sighed wistfully. ¡°Some kind of silk, for sure. Verity would have loved this.¡± Ward chuckled and rubbed the cloth between his fingers, too. ¡°Can you really feel it?¡± ¡°Well, you felt it, right?¡± ¡°Yeah¡ª¡± ¡°So, I did, too. I felt it when you picked it up, and then, when I rubbed it between my fingers, I guess I was sort of remembering that feeling. When I¡¯m out walking around like this, everything I do is a sort of fantasy to me.¡± ¡°Unless you¡¯re punching or pinching me, eh?¡± ¡°Now you¡¯re getting it!¡± Grace grinned wickedly, then, quick as a snake, flicked Ward on the forehead with a solid thwap. ¡°Ouch! Dammit!¡± Ward made to snatch at her wrist, but suddenly, she was gone, only to appear beside him, giggling in his ear. ¡°You see how much of a torment I could be? Doesn¡¯t it make you appreciate my sweetness more? What if I was determined to drive you mad and deprive you of rest?¡± Ward jerked away, turning to face her, and the glint in her fiery eyes was not pleasant. It brought to mind their argument before he¡¯d come into the catacombs and reminded him of why he mistrusted her. He thought about what she¡¯d said, about how she was able to affect at least three of his senses, and he couldn¡¯t do a damn thing about it if she didn¡¯t want to stop. What was keeping her from doing so? Why wouldn¡¯t she want to piss him off? Ward smiled and shrugged. ¡°Keep that up, and you can forget ever getting another taste of anima.¡± Grace¡¯s tone shifted immediately, and perhaps unconsciously, the cruel sneer she¡¯d been wearing faded into a much more pleasant smile. ¡°I¡¯m just teasing, Ward! You know I like you, right? We¡¯re partners, you and me! I mean, that¡¯s an empty threat coming from you, at least until we figure out how to get your anima back, but I don¡¯t want there to be animosity between us.¡± ¡°Uh-huh.¡± Ward set the bolt of silky cloth aside and looked into the chest again. It was empty except for a sheet of polished copper stamped with letters and symbols. Ward picked it up. It was about half the size of a standard piece of paper back on Earth and thick enough to be stiff and difficult to bend. The letters and symbols were strange to Ward¡¯s eyes, but as he stared, they seemed to come into focus. He could read the top row, shrovak gnyrath, but the rest of the symbols were just shapes to him, shapes usually consisting of four or eight dashed lines pointing in various directions. ¡°I think those are words, Ward!¡± ¡°Yeah, me too. I just don¡¯t know what they mean.¡± ¡°No, I mean words!¡± ¡°Oh? Seriously? Shr¡ª¡± ¡°Stop!¡± Grace screeched, clapping a palm over Ward¡¯s mouth. ¡°You don¡¯t have another healing potion handy, right? Let¡¯s approach these words more cautiously! Take that page, and we¡¯ll try to figure out the symbols before you utter those words.¡± Ward nodded, turning the shiny copper page left and right, looking to see if he¡¯d missed anything. It didn¡¯t seem like it, so he stood and carried the bolt of cloth and the sheet to his pack, tucking them into the top and buttoning it up. ¡°I¡¯m gonna get some sleep now.¡± ¡°Might as well. Your little girlfriend is down for the count.¡± ¡°You sound jealous.¡± Ward yawned and stretched out on the couch opposite Haley¡¯s. ¡°Jealous! Of that girl? I don¡¯t think so¡ªshe¡¯s hardly got any curves.¡± She sat on the couch near Ward¡¯s feet¡ªthey were long and spacious¡ªand folded her arms. ¡°Before you sleep, will you answer one question honestly for me?¡± ¡°If you¡¯ll do the same.¡± ¡°Okay. Why didn¡¯t you have any kids?¡± ¡°Huh.¡± Ward stifled another yawn with a balled-up fist. ¡°You know my ex left me, right? Well, we never got to the point where she was ready to have any, and I never got serious enough with anyone after her.¡± ¡°She left you almost fifteen years ago, right?¡± Ward, eyes closed, tucked his head in an almost imperceptible nod. ¡°And you never fell for anyone else?¡± ¡°That¡¯s two questions, sweetie. My turn.¡± ¡°Oh, fine!¡± ¡°Do you feel love? No, scratch that. Did you love Verity? I mean romantically.¡± Ward had marked Grace¡¯s shift in tone every time she mentioned her old host. Grace closed her eyes and lay back into the cushions of the couch. Softly, almost dreamily, she said, ¡°I loved Verity in every way a person can be loved.¡± Ward watched her for a minute, waiting to see if she¡¯d press him about his other relationships, but her eyes were closed, and a lazy smile turned up the corners of her lips. Her face was clean, her makeup perfect, and Ward chuckled, considering how disgustingly filthy he was. He closed his eyes and let the sounds of Grace¡¯s and Haley¡¯s soft, even breaths send him into a deep slumber of his own. He dreamed of weird, violet fields of grain, falling stars, and naked revelers dancing around bonfires. When he woke, Ward felt like his eyelids weighed a thousand pounds, and a deep, jaw-wrenching yawn wracked him as he stretched. He sat up, for a moment forgetting where he was as the deep couch cushions squelched beneath him. When he looked around, everything came rushing back¡ªthe descent into the catacombs, the people dying left and right, the monsters, the crawl through a damp, tight tunnel, and, of course, Nevkin¡¯s betrayal. Along with that memory came a wave of anger, and Ward quickly turned his gaze to the couch where he¡¯d left Haley. She still lay there but looked to be resting peacefully, her chest rising in slow, steady breaths. He looked for Grace where he¡¯d last seen her, curled up at the end of the couch, but she wasn¡¯t there. Everything seemed untouched; his pack was still leaning where he¡¯d left it, the plums were still in the basket with the other bottle of wine, and no new doors had appeared. The big metal cage of an elevator still sat in the center of the room, so Ward stood up and walked around it, intent on ensuring nothing new had popped up. Nothing jumped out at him, just more couches and smooth, wooden wall panels. When he returned, he saw Grace sitting near Haley. Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. ¡°Why not try to wake her? I have no idea how long you slept, but it feels like a really long time to me. Are you okay?¡± ¡°Uh, hello.¡± Ward chuckled. When Grace just scowled at him, the flames dancing in her eyes, he sighed and stretched. ¡°I feel fine¡ªsluggish, but fine. Like, I haven¡¯t slept that hard since I was in my twenties.¡± He walked over to the two women, pulling one of the smaller chairs close. He sat down and jostled Haley¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Haley? You there?¡± She murmured and shifted, rolling to her side, facing away from him into the back of the couch. ¡°Look.¡± Grace pointed to a couple of dried-out plum pits on the cushion, revealed as Haley shifted. Ward laughed. ¡°Looks like she¡¯s been up.¡± He reached out, grabbed her shoulder, and gave her a gentle jostle. ¡°Haley, I think we should get up. I¡¯ve got an idea about how we¡¯re supposed to get out of here.¡± ¡°You do?¡± Grace raised an eyebrow. ¡°Yeah.¡± Ward jerked his thumb toward the elevator. ¡°It meets the ceiling at the top. What if it can keep going up?¡± ¡°Ah. Maybe.¡± ¡°Who¡ª¡± Haley turned and stifled a yawn that had cut off her words. ¡°Who are you talking to?¡± ¡°Oh, myself, I guess.¡± He looked at her and saw how clear her eyes were and how the color had returned to her cheeks and lips. ¡°You¡¯re looking a lot better.¡± ¡°I feel better. Either that wine was magical, or we¡¯ve been resting a long time. Look.¡± She pulled the shreds of her blood-stained yellow shirttails up, exposing a row of four pink scars stretching up from her waistband. ¡°Is that where the lizard clawed you?¡± She nodded. ¡°The one with the venom.¡± ¡°Could be the wine or the fruit . . .¡± Grace¡¯s words trailed off as she stood and began pacing around the room. ¡°I woke while you were snoring and ate some of the fruit. I saw you opened the chest.¡± ¡°Well, yeah, I was afraid it would disappear.¡± Ward grabbed his pack and dragged it closer. ¡°Here, I¡¯ll show you what I found in there.¡± ¡°You don¡¯t have to share¡ª¡± ¡°Nah, come on! We¡¯re a team.¡± Ward lifted out the bolt of silky blue material and handed it to Haley. ¡°There were only two things¡ªthis cloth and,¡± he lifted out the stamped copper sheet, ¡°this copper . . . page or whatever.¡± Haley spent a long minute feeling the cloth between her fingers and even pulling a layer loose to hold against her cheek. She sighed almost wistfully as she refolded it. ¡°This is amazing material. I wonder what we could make with it. Robes? Cloaks? Shirts?¡± ¡°A dress, if you want.¡± Ward shrugged. Haley sniffed, smiling, and took the metal sheet from him, gently turning it in front of her face. ¡°I don¡¯t understand the text. It seems to shift every time I start to focus on it.¡± She touched a finger to one of the other symbols. ¡°These look almost like Gopah forms.¡± ¡°Your martial art?¡± ¡°Yes, but they¡¯re different. If you look at the dashed lines and think of them as arms and legs, you can see what I mean, though. Can you understand the writing?¡± She held the sheet toward him. Ward took it and nodded. ¡°I think they¡¯re words of power.¡± ¡°Makes sense that I can¡¯t read them then. You take it, Ward. I¡¯ve chosen another path.¡± ¡°I was hoping you¡¯d say something like that. Well, in that case, the fabric is yours.¡± ¡°You¡¯re too kind; I¡¯d be dead without your aid. My memory¡¯s still fuzzy about how you did that, by the way.¡± ¡°Eh, what¡¯s important is that we made it. Without some teamwork, I probably wouldn¡¯t have gotten this far either, so forget about it. Besides, the only one who doesn¡¯t deserve a reward is Nevkin, as far as I¡¯m concerned. I was hoping we might still catch him; do you feel like you can get moving?¡± ¡°I do!¡± She groaned softly as she scooted to the edge of the couch. ¡°I feel strange, though¡ªhollow, almost, like my mind¡¯s afloat.¡± She frowned and pressed a hand to her chest. ¡°I don¡¯t know how to put it into words. It¡¯s like something¡¯s missing.¡± She shook her head, then, with a pained expression, asked, ¡°There¡¯s not a toilet in here, is there?¡± ¡°No, but I could sure use one, too. My bladder¡¯s fit to burst.¡± ¡°Why would they build a room to rest and recover and not have a bathroom?¡± Grace asked, hands on hips, peering around quizzically. Haley stood up and walked around the couch to the wall. She began to examine the room¡¯s perimeter, gently running her fingers along the wood paneling. ¡°Did you check for doors?¡± ¡°Well, sure. With my eyes, at least.¡± Ward watched her progress around the room, stopping to rap her knuckles against the wall every few feet. When she walked out of sight, blocked by the bulk of the copper elevator, Ward sighed and picked up the mostly empty wine bottle. ¡°I could go ahead and use¡ª¡± ¡°There¡¯s a door here!¡± Haley called. ¡°It¡¯s a bathroom, Ward, and there¡¯s a sink, too. You should wash up!¡± ¡°How the hell could I have missed that?¡± Ward set the bottle down and moved around the elevator, and, sure enough, plain as day, a door with a copper knob sat in the center of the far wall. ¡°That wasn¡¯t there before!¡± By way of answer, Haley pulled the door closed, and suddenly, the pressure in Ward¡¯s bladder intensified. ¡°Don¡¯t take all day!¡± he called. Shaking his head and smiling, he sat down to wait. ¡°It¡¯s almost like the catacombs were listening to you two. I agree¡ªthat door wasn¡¯t there earlier.¡± Grace wrinkled her nose at him and tsked. ¡°You really do need to clean up. Look at your legs! They¡¯re smeared with filth.¡± ¡°I did my best, Grace.¡± He sighed and lifted one of his arms, sniffing at a relatively clean-looking spot. ¡°I¡¯m disgusting.¡± He looked at the closed door. ¡°Poor kid. Waking up to my stench¡ª¡± The doorknob rattled, and then Haley pushed it open. ¡°I, uh, relieved myself, but you can go in and clean up now. I¡¯ll use the sink when you¡¯re done.¡± When Ward stood and approached her, she asked, ¡°Who¡¯s Grace? Don¡¯t tell me that¡¯s your pet name for yourself.¡± Ward froze, feeling like he¡¯d been caught shoplifting or something. The absurd wave of guilt made him laugh. ¡°Door¡¯s not exactly soundproof, is it? Well, it¡¯s a long story. I figure we¡¯ve been through enough that I can share it with you, though. Let me get cleaned up first, huh?¡± ¡°Fair enough.¡± Ward went into the bathroom and pulled the door closed. He was mid-urination when Grace started speaking behind him. ¡°You¡¯re not actually going to tell her about me are¡ª¡± Ward¡¯s stream sputtered to a stop. ¡°Dammit, Grace! Bathroom stuff! Is it so hard to understand?¡± He pointed to the door. ¡°You know how uncomfortable it is to have your pee cut off mid-stream? Come on, get out. I¡¯ll talk to you in a minute.¡± ¡°Fine!¡± Ward, of course, didn¡¯t hear her leave, but he turned to look over his shoulder, confirming her absence before he finished his business. The toilet wasn¡¯t anything like what you¡¯d find on modern-day Earth. It was basically a flanged copper tube about six inches wide protruding two feet out of the floor. It didn¡¯t flush or have water, but his urine disappeared into the dark depths of the pipe without any trouble. It worked fine for him, but he didn¡¯t think it had probably been very comfortable for Haley. ¡°What the hell am I thinking about?¡± Ward snorted, shook his head, and began to undress; he planned to make good use of the little copper sink attached to the wall. Fifteen minutes later, he emerged from the bathroom, still wearing his filthy, thick woolen poncho but much cleaner beneath it. ¡°Sorry, I splashed water all over the place in there.¡± ¡°It¡¯s fine. I just want to wash up a little.¡± Haley went back into the bathroom, and when she emerged ten minutes later, Ward was busy inspecting the elevator. She walked over and pointed to it. ¡°You think that¡¯s how we move on?¡± ¡°Unless another door is going to appear.¡± Ward picked up his pack, slinging it onto his shoulders. He straightened his sword belt, checking that his knife, sword, and axe were all hanging from the spots he¡¯d decided were the most comfortable. ¡°You ready?¡± ¡°Yes, but tell me about Grace.¡± ¡°I wouldn¡¯t!¡± Grace said, suddenly standing behind Haley. ¡°I have a kind of passenger. Another, oh,¡± Ward tried to think of the most favorable way to present Grace¡¯s presence, ¡°spirit, I guess. Yeah, another spirit is in here.¡± Ward tapped his forehead. ¡°And she talks to me, and I talk to her.¡± Haley¡¯s eyes widened, and she moved closer, peering at his forehead as though she might see Grace in there. ¡°Truly?¡± ¡°Yeah. Or I might just be insane.¡± Ward shrugged. ¡°You said it was a long story.¡± ¡°Well, I guess it¡¯s not. I mostly said that because I wasn¡¯t sure I wanted to talk about it.¡± ¡°Can you see her? This other spirit?¡± ¡°Yeah. Sometimes.¡± Haley stepped closer, reaching out to grab Ward¡¯s forearm with her warm fingers. ¡°Where did you find her? Was she someone you loved who passed?¡± ¡°She¡¯s someone I met back in my home world. Yeah, um, that part¡¯s a much longer story. Let¡¯s save it, all right? Come on, let¡¯s get into the elevator.¡± Ward started toward one of the open copper gates, and Haley, almost reluctantly, let go of his arm and followed. Grace was waiting for him inside, smiling at him almost sweetly. ¡°That was a nice way to describe me, Ward.¡± Haley stepped in behind him. ¡°Are you just saying that again? About it being a long story? Are you nervous to tell me more? ¡°No, it¡¯s definitely a more complicated story.¡± He was saved from further questions as the cage door rattled, startling Haley. She hopped forward with a yelp and turned to watch it clatter shut. Ward touched the handle of his revolver, wishing he had more than two bullets left. ¡°God, I hope this thing doesn¡¯t go back down.¡± 25. Homecoming 25 ¨C Homecoming Ward felt an almost irrational sense of relief when the elevator lurched and began to climb upward, not back down into the lizard-man arena. He wasn¡¯t the only one; Haley let out a whoop and twisted her neck, trying to peer upward through the bars. It was a tight squeeze for two people in one section of the elevator. ¡°I can¡¯t see anything yet.¡± ¡°Well, let me know if¡ª¡± ¡°I see something! White marble . . . lots of light . . . a stairway leading up!¡± ¡°Shit, maybe we really are done.¡± Ward hadn¡¯t felt so relieved in a long while. He¡¯d gone into the catacombs vastly underestimating them, or perhaps it was more that he hadn¡¯t taken them seriously. In any case, if they were about to be let out, he¡¯d learned his lesson. He¡¯d need some time to decompress before hunting out another challenge. For the moment, he wanted to get his comfortable room back at the inn, take a long hot soak, and do some shopping for clean clothes. The elevator rose above the white marble floor, and he saw that Haley had been right. The space was almost cheerily illuminated, and white steps led upward. Nothing else was in the small room outside the metal bars. When the cage door rattled open, he and Haley exited, followed by a strangely quiet Grace. Ward looked at her and frowned, but she didn¡¯t say anything. Rather, she offered him a pleasant smile. Had he done something to earn some points with her? Was it the way he¡¯d described her to Haley? ¡°I think this is it, Ward! The exit!¡± Haley dashed forward, light on her feet, without the weight of her missing backpack. Ward winced at the thought. He still felt a little guilty about leaving it behind. He hoped she hadn¡¯t lost any family treasures or anything. She stopped at the first step, turning to wait for him, so Ward picked up his pace, stepping out of the elevator and onto the staircase. They¡¯d only climbed up five steps or so before Haley pointed and exclaimed, ¡°I see the sky!¡± After that, there was no holding her back; she charged forward, and Ward, laughing, hurried after her, taking the steps two at a time. He could smell the outdoors before he saw them. It smelled like it had rained recently, and a faint hint of pine tickled his nose. Haley beat him out of the marble-lined stairway, and she cheered, excitedly calling down to him, ¡°We did it, Ward! We beat a challenge! I can see the town!¡± Ward emerged from the subterranean stairway to the cool touch of a light breeze that feathered his hair and filled his lungs with a rich, fresh breath of air he hadn¡¯t realized he¡¯d been missing. The sun was low in the sky, off to his right, but the sky was still bright blue, and the feeling he got as he squinted into it must have been something like how prisoners felt when they walked through the prison gates on release day. ¡°Holy shit, that smells good!¡± He looked around, noting the rolling hills and the scattered, tall, thin trees. They looked and smelled like pines, though their trunks were very slender, and their needles were gathered in thick clumps on skinny, flexible branches. ¡°Isn¡¯t it wonderful to be out! Look!¡± She pointed down the hill to Ward¡¯s left, and he saw, past another dozen or so smaller hills, the checkered fields of farmland outside the tall, white-washed walls of Tarnish. ¡°Hey, how ¡®bout that! I thought we¡¯d come up right in town, not way out here.¡± ¡°The catacombs are strange. There are dozens of exits known to exist around this valley.¡± She pointed back at the stairway, or what Ward thought would be the stairway, but when he looked, it was gone¡ªnothing but smooth hillside remained. ¡°The exits don¡¯t linger long.¡± ¡°That is . . . strange, but not the strangest thing I¡¯ve seen, I guess.¡± He shivered and rubbed his palms together briskly. ¡°Is it me, or is the air a bit chillier than when we went in? I swear it feels like fall to me¡ª¡± ¡°Gods!¡± Haley cried, scanning the distant fields. ¡°You¡¯re right! They¡¯re harvesting! They shouldn¡¯t have started that for another month!¡± ¡°I thought something was strange about the time in there!¡± Grace announced, moving to stand near Haley, staring into the distance as if she could determine more about the situation than the local girl. ¡°Well, let¡¯s get started. We won¡¯t find any answers standing up here and staring.¡± Ward started down the hill, his worn, filthy leather shoes sliding and crunching on the loose soil and scattered stones. He got distracted, looking up at the pale outlines of different moons or nearby planets¡ªhe wasn¡¯t sure which¡ªand didn¡¯t notice Haley wasn¡¯t following him for several minutes. When it dawned on him that he and Grace were trudging down the slope alone, he slid to a halt and turned to peer up the hillside, looking for her. It took him a minute, but his eyes were sharper than they used to be, and he finally spotted her slender figure sitting on the ground, leaning against the bole of one of the tall pine trees. ¡°Hey!¡± he called, waving an arm. She responded, but only after several long seconds, waving her arm forward as though shooing him onward. ¡°I think she¡¯s crying,¡± Grace said, squinting. ¡°You can¡¯t see anything I can¡¯t!¡± ¡°Well, look harder, doofus! I think she¡¯s crying.¡± Ward frowned, but he did what she said and shaded his eyes, squinting to peer up the hill toward her. Sure enough, his mana-enhanced vision picked up a sheen of tears on the girl¡¯s pale face. ¡°Ah, dammit.¡± He began the laborious process of climbing back up the hill. When he reached her, Haley was sitting with her knees pulled up to her chest, her eyes glistening with tears and sniffing noisily as she tried to speak. ¡°Just¡ª¡± A sob wracked her, and she buried her face in her knees. Ward squatted before her, sweat dripping down his brow. ¡°Just leave me, Ward. I¡¯ll catch up.¡± Her words were muffled, but he could hear she was still crying. Ward reached out to jostle her. ¡°Hey, kiddo, what¡¯s the problem? Is it your brother?¡± She took a long, shuddering breath, then spoke quickly, getting the words out before she sobbed again, ¡°I have to tell my family he¡¯s dead!¡± ¡°Ah, yeah. That¡¯s going to be awful; there''s no denying it. You made it, though, and I promise they¡¯ll be happy about that.¡± ¡°Why?¡± she mumbled. ¡°Why?¡± ¡°Why¡¯d we do it? What did I gain?¡± Her forlorn pack, sitting outside the closed elevator, flashed through Ward¡¯s mind. ¡°Uh . . . shit, I don¡¯t know.¡± Suddenly, a spark of genius ignited in Ward¡¯s mind. ¡°Well, you got me. We¡¯re friends now, aren¡¯t we?¡± ¡°We are? I¡¯d hoped to get a refinement or magical ore or¡ªWard, can I join you for the next challenge you do? My family won''t be so disappointed if I have a purpose and a powerful new ally.¡± ¡°I wouldn¡¯t say ¡®powerful,¡¯¡± Grace said, ruining the moment. ¡°If I do any more, sure. Right now, all I can think about is a bath. Come on, Haley. Walk with me. I¡¯ll stand with you when you see your folks, okay?¡± He stood up and held out a hand. Haley took it, her fingers hot as usual, and he pulled her up. ¡°Sheesh! You need to put on some weight. How does a hot meal at the inn sound? Well, I¡¯m sure your family will want to feed you, but you gotta try Fan¡¯s cooking . . .¡± He rambled on like that for a while, falling into an old role he¡¯d picked up on the job, helping people deal with grief and loss. By the time they¡¯d descended from the big hill and were working their way across the next one, he got a laugh out of Haley by describing the horrible itch his self-made poncho was starting to give him. ¡°You do look ridiculous. I didn¡¯t want to say anything, but that blanket is not fit to be worn as clothing.¡± ¡°Listen; if you¡¯d seen my clothes, you¡¯d have made the same decision.¡± ¡°What was it like? The refinement? I¡¯ve heard it makes you vomit.¡± ¡°Oh, it does that and a whole lot more! I was sweating sludge, but that was only half of it¡ªthe purge. I also got so hot that I was steaming. I hallucinated; I heard voices, saw every color in the rainbow, and felt like I was zooming through the universe for a while. Well, it¡¯s over now. If I ever get another one, I hope it won¡¯t be so bad.¡± Ward shrugged. ¡°Don¡¯t count on it,¡± Grace chimed in. ¡°It¡¯ll probably be worse!¡± ¡°That¡¯s not very encouraging, Grace.¡± Ward winked at Haley. ¡°She thinks the next one will be even worse.¡± ¡°Can she hear me?¡± ¡°Oh, sure.¡± ¡°Hi, Grace!¡± Haley turned and waved in a circle. ¡°She¡¯s between us.¡± ¡°Oh, I¡¯m sorry!¡± Haley turned and waved at the air between her and Ward. ¡°She¡¯s . . .¡± Grace started to laugh. ¡°She¡¯s humoring you! She thinks you¡¯re nuts!¡± ¡°No, she¡¯s not!¡± Ward growled. ¡°Grace thinks you¡¯re just humoring me.¡± ¡°I wouldn¡¯t!¡± Haley smiled and looked up at him, her pale brown eyes bright with the setting sun''s light. Ward believed her in that moment, and he smiled back. ¡°Maybe I¡¯m wrong,¡± Grace admitted after a moment. ¡°She¡¯s giving me hero-worship vibes now. I don¡¯t know if it¡¯s so smart to keep her around, but maybe . . . Maybe she¡¯ll be useful.¡± Ward ignored her and kept walking. Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site. Soon, they descended the last sloping hill into the fields, and Haley led the way to a dirt track between a couple of freshly tilled plots. ¡°Could we have been gone this long? These fields were full of squash and beets when we went in.¡± ¡°Well, it felt like a long day and then a long sleep to me. Nothing in that place made sense, though.¡± They continued in silence as Haley mulled things over, and Grace disappeared to ride in Ward¡¯s head. By the time they came around the last field and stepped onto the big road traversing the valley''s center, the sun was nearly set, and darkness loomed. Ward saw many yellow-lit windows out on the fields, and he thought the farmhouses looked especially cozy and welcoming. Wood fires burned in the kitchens, and the smell of smoke and food cooking was everywhere. His stomach rumbled, and his mouth filled with saliva, and he and Haley both quickened their steps, though likely for different reasons. ¡°You sure you wanna see your folks tonight? Maybe we should stay at the inn, get cleaned up, and then you can go home in the morning.¡± ¡°Oh, that¡¯s very tempting, Ward, but I feel duty-bound to hurry home.¡± She looked at him in the shadows leading up to the gate and added, ¡°You don¡¯t have to come with me right now if you don¡¯t want to.¡± ¡°Oh, no; I promised. Come on¡ªlead the way.¡± Haley nodded, and they hurried on. The guards at the gate hardly looked at them, which was a significant change from the first time Ward went through, but he didn¡¯t complain. The streets weren¡¯t overly busy, and Ward was amused to note that he didn¡¯t look so out of place in his woolen poncho and beat-up, filthy armor. The working-class folk of Tarnish were truly working-class. They wore wool, leather, or rough-spun clothes that looked to be made of hemp or low-grade cotton. They were filthy from their labors, some covered in mud and dirt, others in soot, and still others in blood or some mixture of the three. If it weren¡¯t for his apparently glowing eyes, he doubted anyone would have given him a second glance. As it was, plenty of people noticed them, but they looked away quickly. After the duel he¡¯d witnessed his first time in town, he kind of understood why people wouldn¡¯t want to get mixed up with someone like him; they didn¡¯t know he couldn¡¯t do squat with his mana. As they wended their way up the narrow streets that climbed toward the western wall, he voiced a concern, ¡°I wonder if these glowing eyes are going to get me in trouble.¡± Haley turned to look at him. ¡°How so?¡± ¡°Well, what if someone thinks I can work magic? What if they want to challenge me or something?¡± ¡°Ward, you can work magic. You saved me with it, remember?¡± ¡°That was kind of a one-time thing. I can¡¯t remember the words I used, and it almost killed me. I had to chug that potion afterward.¡± ¡°Well, I¡¯m just saying, the potential is there. Most people will fear you rather than feel like challenging you. Stronger sorcerers will ignore you unless you give them a reason to punish you. Those at your level or near it might want to fight you for your knowledge or artifacts. That¡¯s the same with anyone, though¡ªa criminal might want to rob me right now.¡± ¡°Is that how it¡¯s done? People fight each other for their ¡®knowledge¡¯? Do you mean the words?¡± ¡°I only know stories.¡± Haley shrugged. ¡°I¡¯ve heard of sorcerers dueling for words, sure. I¡¯ve also heard of them fighting over artifacts like that tongue our friend tricked you into activating for him.¡± ¡°Or my mana-well,¡± Ward growled, clenching his fist as he remembered his vendetta against Nevkin. ¡°I hope that little bastard doesn¡¯t die in there.¡± Ward turned to the sound of Grace¡¯s voice. She walked behind them, daintily traipsing over the rough cobbles in her spotless suit and red-polished toes. Ward nodded to her, winking. ¡°Yeah, I hope he gets out.¡± ¡°Is that Grace?¡± Haley turned, starting to catch onto Ward¡¯s quirks. ¡°Tell her to ignore me, please! I don¡¯t want the whole town talking about us!¡± ¡°She¡¯s a little shy, Haley. Try to pretend you don¡¯t know about her while we¡¯re near other people.¡± ¡°Oh, I¡¯m sorry!¡± Haley slowed and stopped, pointing to a big wrought-iron gate. A bright gas lantern flared from the top of a brick post next to the gate. Ward could tell the glass globe of the lamp had been blown by hand; it wasn¡¯t quite round, and he could see a lot of bubbles and imperfections. ¡°That¡¯s the gate to our neighborhood.¡± ¡°Looks nice.¡± ¡°It¡¯s fairly nice. My father makes a good living managing the logistics for the largest caravan company in town.¡± She stood there, fidgeting, scratching at the side of her thumbnail with her other hand. ¡°Hey. Come on. They¡¯re going to be relieved to see you.¡± Ward gave her a nudge, and she took a deep breath and started toward the gate. He followed her through, then up a nicely cobbled road lined with brick and stone homes that reminded him of something he might see in a Christmas catalog¡ªnarrow, two-storied, with high-peaked gables. The windows were cut into small panes, and warm, glowing lamplight shone out of most of them. ¡°Damn,¡± Ward sighed, looking around at all the cozy homes lining the street, ¡°I take it back¡ªthis neighborhood isn¡¯t just nice, it¡¯s great. It must have been magical growing up around here.¡± ¡°Well,¡± Haley followed his gaze and slowed her steps, really taking in the homes, and Ward suddenly felt stupid as fresh tears filled her eyes and began to stream down her cheeks, ¡°I guess you¡¯re right! It was,¡± she sniffed and sobbed, ¡°great!¡± ¡°Come on! You got this.¡± Ward put his arm around her shoulders and squeezed her against his side as they walked. After a minute, she sniffed and pointed up a flagstone path lined with regularly placed gas lamps burning with soft amber light. Ward nodded and asked, ¡°They have gas lines in the street or what?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± Haley sniffed and chuckled. ¡°Before we left, my father was complaining about them shutting it off soon to perform maintenance on the pipes.¡± She led the way up the path to the narrow porch of her home. The front door was framed in cloudy glass windows, behind which Ward could see more flames flicker, though he couldn¡¯t tell if it was from lamps or a fire. Haley didn¡¯t pause on the stoop. She stepped up to the door and pulled it open, and as the warmth and light spilled out into the night, she called out, ¡°Mom? Dad?¡± Ward hung back as Haley stepped into the foyer, but she gestured for him to follow. It was a nice space, tiled in black and white, with wainscoting and plenty of family portraits on the high walls. Gas lamps burned on either side of the entry, illuminating two hallways, and ahead of them, a beautiful, dark wood banister lined a stairway leading up to the second floor. ¡°Mother!¡± Haley called out again. ¡°Maybe no one¡¯s home,¡± Grace said from behind Ward. He flinched but managed to contain his reaction to the chill she elicited on the nape of his neck. Her prediction was proven wrong almost immediately as the sound of clattering dishes and running feet came to them. Seconds later, a middle-aged couple, whose facial features bore strong echoes of Haley¡¯s, burst into the room. ¡°Haley!¡± the man cried, rushing forward to grab her into a hug. ¡°Oh dear! We thought you¡¯d never return!¡± the woman said, crowding in to stroke Haley¡¯s hair as she buried her face in her father¡¯s neck. After that, the questions and sobbing answers came fast and furious, and Ward just sort of hung back by the door, feeling awkward. After a while, the dad finally broke his tear-streaked gaze away from Haley¡¯s face and looked at him. Ward couldn¡¯t help noticing he wore a bit of a grimace. ¡°Who¡¯s this then?¡± ¡°This is Ward! I met him in the catacombs, and he saved my life several times. Ward, my parents, Vinera and Efrud.¡± ¡°Ah!¡± Ward held up a hand in protest. ¡°No, no, it was more of a partnership. Your daughter did her fair share of life saving.¡± Efrud nodded, sniffing. ¡°And poor Fost? Did you meet him, sir?¡± ¡°Um, I¡¯m sorry, but only briefly.¡± Ward shrugged and, not wanting to be brutally honest with people who¡¯d just learned of their son¡¯s death, added, ¡°He seemed like a fine, strong young man. Life¡¯s not fair.¡± Vinera tsked and put an arm around Haley¡¯s shoulders. ¡°No, it certainly isn¡¯t. Well, Haley? Will you tell us about your adventure? Will you regale us with tales of Fost¡¯s bravery? And you, sir, will you join us for dessert?¡± ¡°Well, I¡ª¡± ¡°Mother, Father,¡± Haley said, interrupting Ward¡¯s attempt to beg his way out of the situation, ¡°Tell me: how long were we gone?¡± ¡°Why, it¡¯s been something like five weeks! We feared we¡¯d lost you both!¡± ¡°Five weeks!¡± Ward''s eyes nearly bugged out of his head. ¡°Oh, yes! When the other victors emerged after only a handful of days, we began to lose hope . . .¡± ¡°Other people got out?¡± ¡°Yes! A mage like yourself, sir¡ªa woman with brightly glowing green eyes. The mayor invited her to dinner. Then there was the fellow who came out boasting of the artifacts he¡¯d gained. He stole a steam wagon and drove off north, making quite a scene, claiming to have ¡®conquered the catacombs¡¯ and swearing he had another challenge to attend¡ª¡± ¡°Did he have a tattooed head?¡± Ward asked, cutting Haley¡¯s father off mid-sentence. ¡°Indeed, he did, sir! The mayor issued a wanted notice for him, as well, for his thievery!¡± ¡°Nevkin!¡± Haley groaned, smashing a fist into her palm. ¡°That little creep!¡± Grace cried from behind Ward. ¡°You knew the man?¡± Haley¡¯s mother asked, still clinging to her daughter. ¡°Yes! He betrayed us. I would¡¯ve died if not for Ward¡¯s heroics.¡± ¡°Then I am in your debt, sir.¡± Haley¡¯s father stepped forward, holding out a hand. Ward took it, grasping the man¡¯s broad palm firmly. ¡°No, you aren¡¯t. As I said, Haley also saved me a time or two.¡± He turned to Haley and her mother. ¡°Listen, I¡¯m going to head to the inn, get cleaned up, and rest a bit. I¡¯ll leave you to catch up with your folks.¡± He unslung his backpack and unfastened the top flap. ¡°Hang on a second, though.¡± They all stood watching as he pulled out the bolt of silky blue fabric. ¡°This is your daughter¡¯s. She won it from the catacombs. I¡¯m sure she would have gained more treasure if not for Nevkin¡¯s betrayal.¡± He handed it to Haley and winked, shaking his head slightly when she opened her mouth to protest. ¡°Well, sir,¡± Haley¡¯s father offered his hand again, and Ward took it, ¡°I must insist that you join us for dinner soon. Additionally, I¡¯ll be reporting your heroics to the mayor, and you can rest assured that he¡¯ll be quite pleased to hear of Haley¡¯s safe return and your role in the matter.¡± ¡°Well, that¡¯s not necess¡ª¡± ¡°Nonsense! I insist! I know you sorcerers are busy, and you likely have other adventures awaiting you, but¡ª¡± ¡°I¡¯ll be traveling with him, father!¡± Haley announced, and Ward groaned inwardly. Was this really the time? ¡°Truly? Aren¡¯t you simply delivering her to us? You¡¯re taking her as an apprentice?¡± ¡°Father!¡± ¡°Sir, I have to reiterate: Haley did as much to secure our victory over the catacombs as I did. Now, listen to your daughter¡¯s tale, and I¡¯ll be sure to accept your invitation for dinner, but let¡¯s all have some rest first, yeah?¡± ¡°Very good, very good.¡± He squeezed Ward¡¯s hand again, and then Ward turned to leave, but not before Haley¡¯s mother could rush forward to try to hug him. Ward grabbed her shoulders, stopping her short with a gentle squeeze. ¡°No, no¡ªtrust me! You don¡¯t want to embrace me right now. The catacombs, at least some of the parts I traversed, were filthy.¡± ¡°Oh, very well, sir. I¡¯m sorry to admit, but I fear you¡¯re correct.¡± She wrinkled her nose and took a step back. ¡°Okay, see you soon, Haley. A pleasure to meet you folks.¡± Ward waved and stepped out the door, sighing heavily in the cool night air. ¡°Well, that was awkward.¡± Grace gave him a nudge to get walking down the path, and as they rejoined the road and turned back toward the center of town, she continued, ¡°They seemed to get over the loss of their son quickly.¡± ¡°I think they¡¯d already sort of accepted the idea that both their kids were dead. They seemed surprised and happy to see Haley, so that was nice, at least.¡± Grace slapped him on the shoulder. ¡°Well, let¡¯s get you cleaned up, then figure out where that Nevkin rat got off to.¡± Ward took a deep breath, blew it out, and sighed, soaking in the fresh air once again. ¡°Sure. Sounds good; I¡¯m going to soak for at least two hours.¡± 26. A Bed to Sleep In 26 ¨C A Bed to Sleep In ¡°It¡¯s this way!¡± Grace said, pointing up one of the side streets Ward had already passed by at least once. ¡°You¡¯re sure? I don¡¯t recognize that store with the balcony up there¡ª¡± ¡°I¡¯m sure!¡± ¡°All right, all right.¡± Ward turned up the narrow, winding street and, keeping to the right so his shoulder brushed the brick wall of a closed business, edged his way around a small crowd of night-time revelers who lingered at the corner. He¡¯d been wandering a little while, pretty sure of the general vicinity of the inn, but not exactly. He didn¡¯t mind, though¡ªthe sights and sounds around the town were entertaining at night, and he enjoyed watching the people, smelling the woodsmoke in the air, and generally savoring being outside in the fresh air. He received his fair share of second glances as he ambled through the streets; his attire might not make him stand out, but his height and the pale white glow of his eyes were another story. Still, those who gave him double-takes quickly looked away, perhaps nervous about being noticed by a ¡°sorcerer,¡± as Haley¡¯s folks had called him. He rounded a corner and noticed Grace skipping along the cobbles near the center of the street. ¡°You¡¯re in a better mood. Glad to be in town?¡± ¡°Well, honestly, I¡¯m just glad to see how Haley treated you when you admitted you have an invisible friend. She didn¡¯t act freaked out or start examining you for demonic possession. I wasn¡¯t sure how my kind would be received here. I told you I¡¯d heard stories about how all sorts of cultures have given us a bad reputation¡ª¡± ¡°I¡¯m sure your people are totally innocent¡ªnothing to do with stealing people¡¯s souls or anything.¡± Ward shook his head, his earlier annoyance flaring. ¡°Ugh! That¡¯s beside the point. I¡¯m just glad not to have your friend instantly suspicious.¡± ¡°I get it.¡± Ward recognized the market area ahead and made his way across the street to more easily approach the bright red and yellow inn. His stomach rumbled, and his mouth began to salivate at the idea of a big tankard of Fan¡¯s beer. ¡°You know, she might have been giving me a bit of a pass, thanks to the ridiculous deference everyone seems to be giving me now that my eyes are glowing a little.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not ridiculous! Sure, if we weren¡¯t on Cinder, you¡¯d probably see a lot more people with control over mana, but you¡¯ve seen how uncommon it is around here.¡± ¡°Right, yeah.¡± Ward had sort of tuned her out as he climbed the steps to the Hen¡¯s Nest and took in the sound of string instruments, a woman singing, and the smell of something delicious. When he pulled the door wide and stepped in, his smile was instant as he saw the festive atmosphere¡ªa band with three fiddlers and a guy playing a set of weird bottle-like drums occupied the far corner, and a young woman warbled a raucous jig about riding a mare to market. People danced in a cleared-off area of the floor near the fireplace, and a couple of dozen people stood around the bar, drinking and laughing, toasting and carrying on. ¡°Welcome in!¡± Fay called, her back still to the door as she spun between tables, depositing baskets of food. Ward let the door swing closed, then pulled off his pack and began pushing toward the bar. People he passed by got quiet and stared, so by the time he¡¯d reached the counter, half the common room was a good deal less boisterous than when he¡¯d come in. Fan saw him coming, and she smiled hugely, reaching behind her to fill up a tall stoneware mug with frothy beer. ¡°You survived!¡± ¡°And I came back!¡± Ward laughed and took the beer. ¡°A man of his word!¡± Ward noticed the people he¡¯d squeezed between to get up to the bar had cleared away from him, and he laughed, gesturing to his filthy attire. ¡°Do you have a room? I should get cleaned up before I hang around people with noses.¡± ¡°Ugh! I¡¯m sorry, but these folks are in town for the fall festival, and I¡¯m totally booked up.¡± She frowned and looked around the room. ¡°Hang on, and I¡¯ll kick someone out!¡± ¡°No!¡± Ward laughed again, then, after chugging several big mouthfuls of bitter beer, said, ¡°Is there another place I could stay? Hell, if I could borrow a tent¡ª¡± ¡°Nonsense, no, no! You¡¯ll stay with us! Fay can sleep with me, and you can have her bed. I¡¯ve got a great big bathtub, too. You¡¯ll love it.¡± ¡°Seriously?¡± ¡°Of course I¡¯m serious! I promised you a room, and here you are, weary and worn, and I don¡¯t have it ready for you. That¡¯s that! You¡¯ll stay with us. Wait a moment while I get Willard out of the kitchen to watch the bar, then I¡¯ll show you up.¡± ¡°I can¡¯t argue with that.¡± Ward was already buzzed from the beer¡ªlikely something to do with eating nothing but plums and then sleeping for¡ªapparently¡ªweeks. He leaned against the counter and watched as Fan went through the kitchen door, waving off the shouted requests for drink refills. When she returned, a big, bald man followed her, wiping his hands on a dishrag and nodding as Fan told him to watch the bar. ¡°Come on, Ward!¡± She walked around the end of the bar, and Ward drained his mug, slammed it a little harder than he¡¯d intended on the bar top, then turned to follow. She wended through the crowd toward the stairs, and Ward nodded along to the music, enjoying the lively strings and the girl¡¯s high, energetic voice. That¡¯s when someone shoved him from behind, and he stumbled. Ward turned, scowling, ready to tell Grace to cut that shit out, when he realized it was a burly fellow in leather pants and a blue and black striped sweater who¡¯d shoved him. ¡°Watch your step!¡± the fellow growled, his words slurred and his eyes bleary from too much booze. Ward figured he had a couple of inches and a good twenty pounds on the guy, but he didn¡¯t have to square off with him. He¡¯d just made eye contact, scowling when the bristly end of a broom whooshed through the air and thwacked into the side of the aggressor''s head, sending him stumbling sideways. Holding the broom''s other end, Fay screamed, red-faced, ¡°Durnish! You¡¯re cut off! Out!¡± She had time to give Ward a double-take, squint up her eyes in a happy smile, and then she was off, chasing the burly local out the door, smacking him again and again with the business end of the broom. ¡°Come on, Ward!¡± Fan grabbed his arm and pulled him back into motion, directing him up the stairs, past the second floor where his room had been before, and up to the third. ¡°Only three rooms up here, and the best is mine and Fay¡¯s. Don¡¯t feel funny about this now, you hear? We¡¯ve let trusted guests bunk with us before¡ªtimes are tight, and every spare glory is helpful, you know?¡± If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. ¡°Uh, sure.¡± Ward was still a little befuddled by his run-in on the dance floor. ¡°They get rowdy like that all the time?¡± ¡°Oh, sure! Especially when there¡¯s something to celebrate! He didn¡¯t hurt ya, did he?¡± ¡°Nah, just a shove.¡± ¡°Well, thanks for not bringing the wrath of the gods down on him, hmm? I can¡¯t afford to rebuild the inn.¡± ¡°Nah, I don¡¯t¡ª¡± ¡°Don¡¯t go telling people what you can¡¯t do!¡± Grace had chosen the perfect moment to butt in, startling Ward to the point where he lurched and banged his forehead on the lintel as he followed Fan into her home. ¡°Goddammit,¡± he groaned. ¡°Sorry, Ward!¡± Grace didn¡¯t seem to be laughing, so his surge of irritation began to cool. ¡°Are you all right? Goodness! What happened?¡± Fan turned to see Ward rubbing his forehead. ¡°Nothing. Too much beer and not enough rest, I guess.¡± Ward looked around the little room, and it was apparent that two women lived there. Floral prints dominated the space, with plush rugs on the hardwood floors and lots of vases, flowers, hanging plants, and needlework art in frames decorating the space. Room dividers built from polished wood and silky, flower-printed panels separated a sleeping area in the far left-hand corner. Doors led away to the left and right, and Fan gestured around, pointing out the room¡¯s features. ¡°That¡¯s Fay¡¯s bed¡ªyour bed for now. The door on the left leads to our amazing bathroom, and this door is my bedroom. Stay out, mister!¡± ¡°All right. You¡¯re sure Fay¡¯s okay with¡ª¡± ¡°She¡¯s fine! Listen, I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re wearing, but it should be burned. Do you have other clothes?¡± ¡°Nah, they got ruined.¡± ¡°Oh, goodness! Leave that thing on the floor outside the bathroom door, and I¡¯ll see if I can rustle you up some pants and a shirt from one of the guests or maybe Willard.¡± She wrinkled her nose, then added, ¡°Rinse off a couple of times before you fill the tub, won¡¯t you? We have plenty of soap in there.¡± ¡°I will.¡± Ward nodded emphatically. ¡°I will. I know I¡¯m disgusting right now. I¡¯ll rinse the tub out when I¡¯m done, too.¡± Ward followed her over to the bathroom, where she showed him around amenities similar to a modern American home but made of brass and a hundred times more stylish. The light was provided by a hanging gas lamp that glowed brightly in the center of the room. As Fan had promised, the tub was huge, and a rack of soaps and jars of dried herbs sat beside it. Fan gestured to the soaps and said, ¡°Don¡¯t be shy¡ª¡± ¡°I won¡¯t!¡± Ward laughed, taking the tenth hint about his odiferous nature to heart. ¡°Leave your dirty clothes outside the door¡ª¡± ¡°You told me, Fan! I will!¡± ¡°Should I try to wash¡ª¡± ¡°Burn ¡®em!¡± Ward set his pack down, leaning it against the sink counter, and started to loosen the straps on his armor. ¡°What about that armor?¡± ¡°It doesn¡¯t fit me all that well. I¡¯ll probably try to sell it and buy something better.¡± ¡°All right, I¡¯ll see you when you¡¯re all cleaned up.¡± She pushed past him, and Ward watched her go, admiring her energy and positive demeanor. He supposed he was lucky to have a bath and a soft bed to sleep in; it hadn¡¯t occurred to him that the inn might be full. Still, he hadn¡¯t been exaggerating¡ªafter spending time in the catacombs, he wouldn¡¯t have minded sleeping under the stars. Fan paused in the doorway and smiled at him, and Ward found she was a lot younger-looking and prettier when she did that. He choked the thought off, not letting his mind go down that road. He had enough trouble without having romantic thoughts about the innkeeper he was bunking with. ¡°Do you want me to put aside some food?¡± ¡°Yes! Please don¡¯t let all those rowdy bastards eat everything!¡± ¡°Perfect! We¡¯ll see you soon, then. I¡¯ll put something for you to wear outside the door.¡± ¡°Thanks, Fan!¡± Ward called as the door clicked shut. Then he got to work prying the dirty, blood and grime-stained armored shirt off. He felt a million times better when it was off, and then when he¡¯d peeled off the sweaty, filthy, scratchy blanket poncho, he sighed with immeasurable relief. He piled it into a ball and set it outside the door with his ruined leather shoes. A shiver tingled his spine as he shut the door, and he whirled, expecting to see Grace spying on him, but he was alone. ¡°I know you¡¯re around, but just pretend you aren¡¯t until I get in the tub, all right, Grace?¡± True to his word, Ward stood in the tub and dumped a few pitchers of hot water over himself, removing a lot of the grime and sending it down the drain before filling it with hot, steaming water. The brass pipes came up from the floor and traversed the wall to spill into the big tub, and Ward could hear them rattling a long way off through the wooden floor. He wondered what sort of boiler the inn used. Was the water provided from the city, or was a cistern somewhere up above him? It seemed like the people of Cinder had some know-how when it came to building roads and steam-driven vehicles. They had gas lines, so it wasn¡¯t hard to imagine they might have sewer and water lines. Those were some of the things he thought about as he soaked in hot, soapy water. He also thought about Nevkin and how he wanted to catch that little bastard and wring his neck. At the very least, he meant to take his mana-well back from the kid, but he might not stop there. If he put up a fight, Ward wouldn¡¯t be responsible if he had to hurt him. The kid was dangerous with that rapier, and now he had the means to do magic. If he¡¯d been willing to leave Ward and Haley to an uncertain fate against monstrous lizard-men, would he be willing to harm them more directly? Apparently, he¡¯d committed some crimes as he left the town. Why would he do that? Had the power of the artifacts he¡¯d taken gotten to him? Had he found something else before he escaped? ¡°What are you doing? You¡¯ve been soaking for almost an hour! I thought you were hungry!¡± Ward opened his eyes, for once not startled by Grace¡¯s voice. ¡°You¡¯re going to make it so I don¡¯t have any reaction to being startled. Is that what you¡¯re trying to do? It might backfire if I don¡¯t flinch when I should¡ª¡± ¡°Oh, quit being dramatic!¡± ¡°All right. Well, I don¡¯t suppose you could hand me that towel?¡± ¡°You know I can¡¯t¡ª¡± ¡°So give me a minute, would ya?¡± Ward was starting to get used to Grace being around, and she¡¯d certainly seen enough that he didn¡¯t have any hope of modesty, but it was sort of the principle of the matter¡ªhe liked to imagine he could still have some privacy. He smiled when she didn¡¯t argue; it seemed he was getting through to her. He dried off, wrapped the towel around himself, and then opened the door to see if Fan had come through with her promised change of clothes. Folded neatly on the little chair beside the door was a pair of rough-spun, loose-fitting pants with a draw-string waist and a similarly made shirt with big wooden buttons. They were both a nondescript shade of tan. ¡°I¡¯ll take it!¡± Ward smiled, pressing the shirt to his nose to smell the clean fabric. Looking back at the stool, he saw a pair of well-worn, oiled leather slippers with a soft cloth lining. He was surprised they fit on his rather large feet, with room to spare. The clothes were simple and plain, but they were clean, and Ward felt like a million bucks after he¡¯d clad his well-scrubbed body in them. He stood before the full-length mirror in Fan and Fay¡¯s living area and gave himself a once-over, peering with amazement into his softly glowing eyes. ¡°Not too shabby.¡± ¡°You are absurd!¡± Grace laughed from the doorway. ¡°Come on! Aren¡¯t you hungry?¡± Ward gave himself one more look, still a little in awe of his youthful skin and dark brown hair. Wouldn¡¯t it be something if Andrea could see him now? He wondered if she was still happy with Mark. Catching himself before his mind wandered too far down that road, he shook his head and banished the thought. Why should he care? He opened the door with a grin that exposed his white, healthy teeth. ¡°All right, sidekick, let¡¯s get some food in my belly.¡± 27. A New Day 27 ¨C A New Day Ward yawned and opened a bleary eye, peering through a gap in the silk-paneled room divider to see what had awoken him. The room was dim, but he saw shadows jumping as someone, probably Fan, moved about, carrying a small lamp. He supposed she was getting ready for the day and was trying not to wake him. He cleared his throat and whispered hoarsely, ¡°Fan, you can turn on the lights. I¡¯m up.¡± ¡°It¡¯s me!¡± Fay announced, and the lamp grew much brighter as she turned up the wick. ¡°My aunt¡¯s already down starting the biscuits.¡± ¡°Breakfast gonna be good?¡± ¡°Always! It¡¯ll keep, though, if you want to go back to sleep. I¡¯ll be gone in a minute.¡± ¡°Nah, I¡¯m a morning person. Once I¡¯m up, my brain starts going; no way I¡¯ll fall back asleep.¡± Ward stretched and sat up, stuffing the pillows behind his back. Fay¡¯s bed was comfortable, if a bit narrow and short for him. He¡¯d been oddly relieved that she didn¡¯t change the bedding; he supposed he¡¯d have felt differently if it belonged to someone less clean and nice than Fay, but he was glad she hadn¡¯t gone to the trouble. ¡°Thanks for letting me sleep here.¡± ¡°Well, you¡¯re paying, right?¡± She giggled as she walked into the bathroom, and Ward took the opportunity to stand up and pull his shirt on. He¡¯d slept in the loose, comfortable pants Fan had acquired for him; it had either been that or sleep in the nude, and he wasn¡¯t going to push the two women¡¯s hospitality that far. Once he¡¯d pulled on the shirt, he stepped around the screen, looking for his leather slippers¡ªhis feet were cold! ¡°It¡¯s cold in here!¡± He spied the moccasin-style footwear and slipped them on, sighing with relief as the soft lining hugged his toes. ¡°It¡¯s going to get colder in the coming weeks. This is nothing!¡± Fay called from the bathroom. ¡°Well? What¡¯s your big plan for the day?¡± Grace asked. Ward jerked his head to the sound of her voice and saw her fiery eyes flickering in the shadows near the doorway. She hopped up on the dining table, folding her legs under her. ¡°That¡¯s not a chair,¡± Ward muttered. She winked one of her bright eyes and repeated, ¡°Your plan?¡± ¡°Gotta do some shopping today.¡± Ward raised his voice, so Fay would assume he was talking to her. She answered, her voice echoing funnily from the bathroom, ¡°I can show you around once the breakfast rush is past. Or do you want to be alone?¡± ¡°Nah, a guide would be great.¡± ¡°Okay, you can buy me lunch while we¡¯re out!¡± ¡°It¡¯s a date.¡± Ward turned to Grace, grinned, and offered her a wildly exaggerated wink. ¡°You¡¯re ridiculous!¡± He moved closer to the bathroom door. ¡°Whose clothes am I wearing? I never got the chance to ask Fan last night.¡± ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure she got them all from Willard.¡± ¡°The big guy who works in the kitchen?¡± ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s him. Don¡¯t worry; he always wears the same boots, day in and day out.¡± The door opened, and Fay stood there, smiling brightly, almost like she was proud of her two missing teeth. ¡°Need to go?¡± ¡°Yeah. I¡¯ll be quick.¡± ¡°Just come down, or did you want me to wait?¡± ¡°Uh, I don¡¯t care. Nah, it¡¯s fine¡ªgo ahead. I¡¯ll see you in a minute.¡± ¡°Great!¡± She paused, then gestured to her bed. ¡°Sorry, I didn¡¯t get clean linens out in time. I was busy with that crowd in the common area, and Fan didn¡¯t warn me before you went up to sleep.¡± ¡°No!¡± Ward shook his head. ¡°Don¡¯t even think about it. That was the best-smelling bed I¡¯ve been in in a long time.¡± She grinned at that, then nodded and walked past him, smelling like flowers and mint, and Ward continued into the bathroom and closed the door. ¡°I need to buy a toothbrush and, shit, do you think they have deodorant?¡± He wasn¡¯t sure why he spoke aloud. It was almost like he was inviting Grace into the bathroom with him. ¡°What?¡± Fay¡¯s voice sounded distant, like she¡¯d already stepped out the door to the hallway. Ward raised his voice and called, ¡°Nothing! Talking to myself.¡± Ten minutes later, with Grace trailing behind him, talking his ear off about what he needed to buy, he padded down the wooden stairs to the common room. The scent of sugary baked goods, bacon, and frying potatoes assaulted his nose, sending his stomach into rumbling overdrive. He¡¯d eaten and drunk quite a lot the night before, but he felt like he was running on empty again. ¡°I¡¯m starved!¡± he announced, grabbing a small, empty table near the front window. The fireplace was doing a great job of warming up the space, so he didn¡¯t mind the slight chill coming off the glass. The view of the street and the people walking by was worth it; Ward dearly enjoyed people-watching. He didn¡¯t have to order breakfast; five minutes after he claimed his seat, Fay brought a tray of food over along with a big mug of steaming cider. He was beaming, ready to thank her, but a patron sitting in a soft chair near the fireplace grumbled rather loudly, ¡°Wonder what he did for the special treatment! I been waiting a quarter-hour for some food!¡± ¡°Sorry, sir! This customer made his order last night.¡± Fay¡¯s voice was breezy and cheerful, and she traipsed out of the room toward the kitchen without giving the complainer a second glance. ¡°Last night, huh?¡± The old timer harumphed, but Ward ignored him, too busy enjoying his plate of eggs, sausage, and pan-fried potatoes to care. ¡°Looks good. Oh, God, it is good!¡± Suddenly seated across from him, Grace leaned toward his plate and moaned softly, licking her lips. ¡°You¡¯re a glutton. Do you ever not like the way something tastes.¡± ¡°Well, just like I don¡¯t have to smell or hear or see what you do, I don¡¯t always have to taste what you taste. That¡¯s good news for me, by the way; your taste in warm beer isn¡¯t something I fancy.¡± ¡°My taste? There isn¡¯t much of a selection in this town, and my body actually develops a thirst, you know? So, yeah, to me, that stuff tasted damn good last night. Anyway, do you have to express your enjoyment so . . . sensually?¡± Grace sighed and sat back in her seat. ¡°Fine. Just eat, and I¡¯ll try to keep from showing any pleasure. By the way, people are staring, so maybe don¡¯t talk to me so much.¡± Ward frowned and looked around at the many people sitting at tables in front of the fire. No one seemed to be particularly interested in him. Using his arm to cover his mouth, he said, ¡°You''re killing me, Grace.¡± He tried to forget she was there for a while and got to work tucking into his meal. Everything was good, especially the warm cider. He¡¯d expected something sweet, but it was spicy and, without a doubt, alcoholic. ¡°What a great tradition!¡± Ward licked his lips after downing a nice long sip. ¡°Booze for breakfast? Not exactly Nobel Prize worthy.¡± Ward took another drink, ignoring her, then got back to work on his breakfast. He was just scooping the last of his potatoes onto his fork when Fay returned with a tray of steaming, butter-and-honey-covered biscuits. She dropped one off to everyone in the common room, including Ward. ¡°Sorry it wasn¡¯t here with the rest of your meal, but they just came out of the oven!¡± Ward leaned back and patted his belly, laughing. ¡°At least these clothes are nice and loose.¡± This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. ¡°Oh, I think you can afford a big meal or two! I doubt you ate very well in the catacombs. I don¡¯t know how you survived for weeks down there.¡± Before Ward could try to explain the weird time loss he¡¯d experienced, she was wending her way back toward the kitchen. ¡°It is awfully strange how you lost so much time. I was wondering if the fruit or wine caused it. I¡¯ve heard of magical foods, usually involving the Fae, that caused people to lose years or entire lifetimes dreaming away while the mortal world moved on.¡± ¡°Fae? Fairies, right? Yeah, I remember stories like that. Never take food from a fairy or some such. You don¡¯t think they¡¯re the ones who set up the catacombs, do you?¡± ¡°Oh, I doubt it. It might be a related kind of magic, however. Those plums and wine may have been part of your reward. Next time you get a chance to gather some mana, it will be interesting to see if you can take in very much.¡± Ward tried to mask his chatter with Grace by facing the window and speaking in a low voice. ¡°Speaking of that, I was wondering what to do about that copper sheet with the words.¡± She nodded. ¡°There may be a mana user in this town¡ªa witch or fortune teller or some such. If so, you might be able to purchase or earn some instruction. Something to ask your little friend while you¡¯re out on your date.¡± Ward didn¡¯t take the bait. He ate his biscuit, staring into Grace¡¯s face, watching for her to break and show some pleasure in the absolutely decadent deliciousness. It didn¡¯t take long; just two bites in, he saw her moving her jaw and swallowing. She stared at his mouth, her eyes glued to his fork as it moved up and down with new bites. After a while, he chuckled and broke the spell. ¡°That¡¯s pretty nice that you can enjoy things like that.¡± ¡°Food is my favorite. I would have said sex, but my first host ruined that for me.¡± She frowned, folded her arms over her chest, and looked out the window. ¡°At least most of the time.¡± ¡°Do I want to ask?¡± ¡°No. Sorry, I mentioned it.¡± Ward nodded, wiping his mouth on a napkin. He was stuffed, and the common room was still busy, so he leaned back in his chair and settled in for some people-watching while waiting for Fay to finish the breakfast rush. He liked watching families most of all, especially out and about this early during a celebratory time. He¡¯d watch the kids with their rosy cheeks, breath pluming, chattering excitedly to parents who seemed relaxed and cheerful. Ward knew he was in a different world with fantastic things like magic and monsters and everything in between, but what really drove it home for him were those happy people strolling along the street; you just didn¡¯t see much of that anymore back on Earth. Ward shook his head, correcting his train of thought¡ªhe didn¡¯t see much of that kind of thing anymore. He supposed his line of work, the hours he put in, and his generally anti-social behavior could be major contributing factors. Whatever the case, he was enjoying his time on Cinder. ¡°In Tarnish,¡± he corrected himself; the catacombs had not been fun. ¡°Hmm?¡± Grace asked. ¡°Nothing. Watch out the window; check out how happy these people are.¡± ¡°Simple lives bring simple joys.¡± ¡°Huh.¡± Ward folded his arms and considered that for a minute. He hated admitting it, but he felt she had a point. These people weren¡¯t worried about social media, news reports, or competing to get into a fancy school or land a high-powered job. ¡°Bah.¡± He dismissed the notion¡ªthe truth was, he didn¡¯t know if any of that was true. Maybe he wasn¡¯t seeing the darker side of this society. Maybe there were homeless camps beyond the farms up in the hills, or perhaps there was an addiction problem, and mutant addicts lived in the sewers. His musing made him chuckle, and so he was sitting there grinning like an idiot, laughing to himself, when Fay came up to the table. ¡°I¡¯m ready!¡± ¡°Oh? That was quicker than I thought it would be.¡± ¡°Fan has plenty of help today; she wants me to have fun.¡± As she spoke, Ward turned to look more fully at her and saw she¡¯d changed into a soft-looking yellow sweater and some slender, blue woolen pants. She wore polished leather boots and, overall, just looked very comfortable and warm. He scooted his chair back and stood, clearing his throat. ¡°You look nice.¡± Fay folded her hands before her and shrugged, shrinking into herself a little as her cheeks reddened. ¡°Well, let¡¯s get you some new clothes so I can say the same!¡± Ward looked himself up and down. ¡°You kidding me? This is some high-quality threadwork¡ª¡± ¡°Oh, hush!¡± Her smile widened, and she stuck the tip of her tongue in the gap where her left incisor was missing. The expression was endearing, and Ward wanted desperately to ask her about her missing teeth. ¡°Go get your things! I¡¯ll wait out front.¡± ¡°On it.¡± Ward stood and returned to the room, where he gathered up his backpack, beat-up armored shirt, revolver, knife, axe, and sword. He figured it would be easier to stuff everything in the pack along with the gems he wanted to trade. Buckling it shut, he swung the now-heavy pack up to his shoulders and hurried downstairs, where he found Fay outside, sitting on the top step. ¡°All set?¡± She hopped to her feet, and Ward couldn¡¯t help but think she was pretty and vibrant and full of the kind of energy he often felt he lacked. He supposed he needed to start cultivating a different attitude now that his body was youthful and healthy¡ªnow that he had a new world of opportunities in front of himself. Thinking that way made him look around for Grace, wondering if she was silently judging him, but he didn¡¯t see her. He considered that maybe she wanted a nap after savoring his breakfast. The thought almost made him laugh, so he covered by inhaling the brisk air exuberantly. ¡°Damn, it smells good out here! Cool fresh air with a complex layer of woodsmoke . . .¡± he wrinkled his nose and chuckled, ¡°and animal dung!¡± Fay reached up and tucked some of her pale blond hair behind an ear. ¡°You¡¯re in a good mood!¡± ¡°How could I not be after that breakfast?¡± ¡°A good point, sir! Well? Where to first?¡± ¡°I¡¯d like to unload some of these heavier things first. Know anyone who would buy some old armor and weapons?¡± ¡°Of course! We could go back to old Gonjin¡¯s, but you¡¯ll do better with someone who specializes in those sorts of things. I know the place.¡± She turned and started down the cobbled road, and Ward fell in by her side. ¡°Nice of Fan to let you off work.¡± ¡°Oh, I complain about her, but she¡¯s great. I know I¡¯m lucky.¡± She looked like she would say more, but then she just smiled slightly and took hold of his arm. ¡°So, what will you do next?¡± ¡°Hmm. You mean after I finish shopping today, or are you asking more long-term?¡± ¡°I mean, now that you¡¯re done with the catacombs, will you be moving on?¡± ¡°Ah, yeah, I think so. I wasn¡¯t expecting to come to a world like this, and now that I¡¯m here, I feel like there¡¯s just too much to do, too much to see, for me to stay in one place.¡± Fay turned down a narrow street where Ward was certain anything with more than two wheels would get stuck between stone walls. ¡°I understand. I¡¯ve thought about heading off a few times. There are cities I¡¯d like to see and places I¡¯d like to visit. Still, when I think about what I¡¯d like to be doing with my life, I can¡¯t think of much I¡¯d like more than to work with my auntie in her inn. I know it¡¯s simple, but¡ª¡± ¡°Don¡¯t feel like you have to explain that! Shit, I can think of a million worse ways to live. You¡¯re lucky, and I¡¯m glad you know it.¡± Fay glanced up at him sideways, and he smiled at her. They kept walking for a few minutes, and Ward saw her reaching a finger between her lips, prodding at one of the spaces between her teeth. He couldn¡¯t help himself and asked, ¡°What¡¯s the story there?¡± ¡°Oh!¡± She pulled her hand away from her mouth as if he¡¯d caught her stealing a cookie. ¡°I¡¯m still getting used to the space! You mean how I lost ¡®em? Let¡¯s just say I got a little enthusiastic breaking up a brawl in the common room a while back.¡± ¡°Someone hit you?¡± ¡°Mmhmm, but it was an accident¡ªthere was quite a melee, and one of the regulars ducked a thrown chair, and it caught me right in the mouth. Fan thinks I¡¯m lucky I only lost the two teeth and didn¡¯t get a broken jaw or some such. Anyway, it¡¯s costing me most of my savings, but I¡¯ve got an artificer making me a couple of silver ones.¡± ¡°An artificer?¡± ¡°They don¡¯t have ¡®em where you¡¯re from? He¡¯s sort of like a skillful tinker who knows a thing or two about enchanting. The fellow I hired knows the words to make the new teeth grow into the gums.¡± ¡°The words? Like the words of power?¡± ¡°Exactly, though I guess they¡¯re different for putting on artifacts than those meant for speaking. You probably know more than I do.¡± Fay turned again and pointed down the steeply descending, narrow, cobbled lane. ¡°Speaking of my missing teeth, the smith I know is down there in the market square.¡± Ward followed her, a little confused about what the smith would have to do with her missing teeth. ¡°So, this artificer, how long does he take to make two little teeth?¡± ¡°He wanted three months, but I keep stopping by to bug him, and I think he¡¯s hurrying. I saw him yesterday, and he really groused! ¡®I¡¯m going as fast as I can gather the mana! You¡¯ve really put a strain on me with this order! I should charge you extra!¡¯ On and on!¡± She laughed, and Ward chuckled along with her. The narrow street opened into a small, cobbled courtyard with a stone well at the center. Several stores opened onto the square, and on the far-left corner, Ward saw an open-air smithy with a man wearing an apron hard at work, pumping a bellows, sending bursts of air into a brightly glowing forge. Fay approached him and called out, ¡°Rolph! I have a customer for you.¡± Rolph turned toward them, and Ward saw his swarthy cheeks lift upward as a smile crinkled his bright blue eyes. ¡°Fay! It¡¯s been too long; are you avoiding me?¡± Fay stopped and put her fists on her hips. ¡°No, but I notice you¡¯ve been keeping away from the Nest ever since that brawl!¡± ¡°Oh, Fay!¡± Rolph stopped pumping the bellows and clapped his hands to the sides of his head. ¡°Don¡¯t remind me of that! I¡¯m so sorry I ducked¡ª¡± ¡°Hush! I told you then it wasn¡¯t your fault.¡± Fay turned to Ward and winked. ¡°This is the guy I was telling you about.¡± ¡°You¡¯ve been telling people about that?¡± Rolph looked horrified as he practically jogged over to the two of them. ¡°Sir, I have to tell you, I didn¡¯t know Fay was behind me!¡± He reached out a hand. ¡°I¡¯m Rolph, and it¡¯ll be a pleasure to earn your business today.¡± Ward shook his hand and nodded. ¡°I¡¯m Ward, and don¡¯t worry¡ªI¡¯m sure you can earn Fay¡¯s good graces with a fair price. Let me show you some stuff I want to sell, and then we can talk about what you might sell me. That sound all right?¡± 28. Just Spending Time 28 ¨C Just Spending Time ¡°You¡¯re telling me you¡¯d like to trade this old armor and these weapons for something new?¡± Rolph held his hands on his hips as he looked over the chainmail shirt, axe, and sword. ¡°What¡¯s wrong with the weapons?¡± ¡°Well, I¡¯m not saying something¡¯s wrong with them. I think they¡¯re pretty decent, really, especially the sword. I just don¡¯t know squat about fighting with ¡®em and thought I¡¯d get something a little more my speed.¡± Ward was keeping his knife; he¡¯d had some practice with a knife in the Marines, and it was immensely useful in other ways. The axe was probably a decent weapon to keep around, but it was clearly not meant for use as a tool, and Ward had seen enough in his life to know that, though he could probably swing it quickly and with plenty of force, there was a hell of a lot more to fighting with an axe than that. As far as he knew, that went double for the sword. ¡°So, what kind of weapon are you interested in?¡± ¡°I think a spear.¡± Ward was sure there was a lot he didn¡¯t know about fighting with a spear, but he knew enough to figure he¡¯d be better off with one than with a sword. It had more reach than other melee weapons, and if he capitalized on that, keeping enemies at bay, he¡¯d have at least a fighting chance of stabbing them with the pointy end. ¡°Mmhmm, mmhmm.¡± Rolph nodded and looked Ward up and down, his gaze lingering on his eyes momentarily. Then, he glanced at Fay and quickly looked away. ¡°Well, I suppose you know this sword¡¯s worth more than any spear I¡¯ve got for sale. It¡¯s worth more than most of the armor I¡¯ve got, too. If you want to trade it, I¡¯ll fit a ring mail vest for you and let you take your pick of my spears. For the axe and old armor, I¡¯ll pay a hundred glories.¡± ¡°Deal.¡± Ward held out a hand, and Rolph shook it. His palm felt like plywood, and Ward wouldn¡¯t have been surprised to see him juice an onion with that grip. ¡°Good! I¡¯ll measure you, then you can pick your spear. I¡¯ll have Lem bring the armor by the inn tonight or first thing in the morning.¡± Ward agreed, and then Rolph spent five minutes taking measurements that reminded him of the handful of times he¡¯d bought new suits. Rolph didn¡¯t have a measuring tape, though; he used lengths of string, cutting them to represent the measurements. In the end, he had a solid fistful of strings, and Ward had no idea how the man would keep them straight. Which one represented his biceps, and which his neck? What about the lengths of his arms? When Rolph took him to see his spears, guiding him into the shop adjoined to his forge and pointing out a rack that lined one wall, Ward spent a good fifteen minutes looking them over. He liked how some of them looked, but when he picked them up, they didn¡¯t feel right¡ªtoo long, too short, too heavy, or uncomfortable to grip. He settled on a long spear with a seven-foot haft and a ten-inch, knife-like blade with two edges. It was longer than many others but not nearly as long as some. Ward figured he wanted the weapon for reach, so getting something too short wouldn¡¯t be wise. He liked that the darkly-stained, wooden haft was smooth and round, easy to grip, and very sturdy while still having some flexibility. ¡°That¡¯s a nice one¡ªmeadow ash haft with a barrow-steel blade. You won¡¯t go wrong with a good solid spear like that.¡± Ward glanced at Fay to see what she thought, but she was perusing some knives Rolph had on a display counter. ¡°I¡¯ll take it, then.¡± ¡°Right! Let me get your glories for the axe and old armor. Then I¡¯ll get to work on your ring mail.¡± ¡°Sounds good.¡± Ward walked over to Fay, careful not to drag his spear tip along the wooden rafters. ¡°Something you want in there?¡± ¡°Oh, not now. I was thinking of a present for Fan; she could use a new chopping knife.¡± ¡°Pick a good one, and we¡¯ll get it for her. Least I can do, considering you two making room for me in your home.¡± ¡°Really?¡± Fay looked up from the case, her brown eyes sparkling in the light from the window as she smiled. ¡°Sure!¡± ¡°Well, she¡¯d love this one! Look at the lovely handle and the fine steel!¡± She pointed to a sharp-looking chopping knife with a light blond wood handle. It was a beauty, and the tag hanging from the handle read ~75. ¡°Rolph, we¡¯ll take this knife too. Take it out of the money you owe me.¡± Ward wasn¡¯t worried about glories. He had a pouch full of gemstones in his backpack and more than fifteen hundred glories from before he went into the catacombs. Besides all that, he was youthful, healthy, and smart enough to find ways to make money in his new reality. ¡°Right away, sir!¡± Ward sighed happily. ¡°You wait for him to get it, will ya? I¡¯m gonna step out with this spear before I break something.¡± ¡°Okay! Thank you, Ward! She¡¯s going to love it.¡± ¡°It¡¯s no problem, but you have to do something for me.¡± ¡°Oh?¡± ¡°Yeah, be sure to tell her it''s from both of us.¡± ¡°I couldn¡¯t¡ª¡± ¡°Yeah, you could.¡± Ward pulled open the door. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t have bought it if not for you, so there you go.¡± He stepped out into the chilly air, inhaling deeply and watching as his breath plumed forth as he exhaled. ¡°Damn, that¡¯s nice.¡± ¡°Having fun playing bigshot with the local barmaid?¡± Grace snickered from beside him, and Ward sighed. ¡°Too much to hope you weren¡¯t listening in, I guess.¡± ¡°Oh, relax. I¡¯m starting to get your MO. If I picture you like I found you, a limping, late middle-aged, dad-type, I can see your actions as kind of sweet¡ªinnocent almost.¡± ¡°Are we going back to that¡ª¡®old man¡¯ this and ¡®old man¡¯ that?¡± ¡°Can¡¯t I tease you without you starting to feel prickly? You earned some respect in the catacombs, so don¡¯t take it personally, okay? I¡¯m just playing around.¡± ¡°Where you been, anyway?¡± ¡°Just resting and watching. I¡¯ve been staying alert at night, paying attention to what your nose and ears tell me, trying to ensure you don¡¯t get messed with while sleeping.¡± ¡°Huh? Why?¡± ¡°Well, you heard what Haley¡¯s parents said about Nevkin, right? He¡¯s unhinged! He has access to power, but channeling that mana through the mana-well and using it through an artifact that¡¯s clearly beyond his ability? It can¡¯t be good for his mind. It¡¯ll pull out all of his worst qualities. I thought it wise to remember he also has reason to be threatened by you. I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if the little devil didn¡¯t hire watchers to see if you and your little princess ever came out of the catacombs. One could be observing you right now, or someone could be riding pell-mell to wherever Nevkin is to let him know you¡¯re alive.¡± ¡°You think so? I think he thought for sure he was leaving us to die. He knew three lizards were coming down.¡± ¡°Well, you dispatched one lizard rather easily, and he didn¡¯t know you were running low on bullets.¡± ¡°I guess so.¡± Grace narrowed her eyes at him. ¡°He should be worried, yes? You don¡¯t intend to let him get away with what he¡¯s done, do you?¡± ¡°Hell, yes, he should be worried! I very much intend to find the little bastard.¡± Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. The door squeaked open, and Fay stepped out, holding a little leather pouch in one hand and a ribbon-wrapped, knife-sized wooden box in the other. She offered him the pouch. ¡°Twenty-five glories.¡± As Ward took it, dropping it into a pocket on his filthy canvas backpack, she asked, ¡°Who were you talking to?¡± ¡°Just myself. I have a bad habit of it.¡± Ward looked past her to where Grace was leaning against the building, and she wiggled her fingers at him, then disappeared. Fay smiled and looked up and down the street. ¡°Well? Where to next?¡± ¡°You know I need new clothes and shoes. I wouldn¡¯t mind a nicer pack, maybe a leather one. Hmm, I have some uncut gems to sell. That¡¯s enough to get us started, wouldn¡¯t you say?¡± ¡°Sounds like a good morning! Then we can get lunch, and you can figure out what else you need to accomplish.¡± Fay grabbed his elbow, and Ward smiled, enjoying her familiarity. They stopped by a jewelry store first, and Ward sold his three rose quartz stones for twenty-five glories each, but that was peanuts compared to the twenty-five hundred the little glasses-wearing jewel smith offered him for the uncut sapphire. Ward knew next to nothing about gemstones, but he knew sapphires were expensive back on Earth. Apparently, an uncut one the size of his thumbnail was worth a pretty penny in Tarnish, too. Ward talked the woman up to 3250 glories for the lot, and suddenly, the knife he purchased for Fan didn¡¯t seem like much of a big deal. Next, Fay led him to a cobbler¡ªan honest-to-God cobbler¡ªwho made shoes from scratch out of leather and tough, woven materials. He used all kinds of things for soles that Ward wouldn¡¯t have ever thought of, from springy wood to hardened leather to cork to materials that sounded like they were made-up. Ward bought a pair of lace-up leather boots with multi-layered hide, wood, and cork soles. After the stout, bearded cobbler measured his foot, he announced that he¡¯d have the boots ready in two days. Ward couldn¡¯t complain, considering the guy was building them from scratch. He picked up five pairs of woolen socks while he was there, and then he and Fay went to a tailor who she swore was the best in town. Ward wasn¡¯t sure he was great at tailoring, but the fellow was a skilled salesman. He instantly whipped out a proper measuring ribbon with numbered lines at regular intervals, though definitely not a unit of measurement Ward was familiar with. While he sized him up, the very slender, very neatly dressed man gave Ward a rundown on what he recommended he buy: First, three pairs of boot-cut woolen trousers dyed a dark gray, black, and blue¡ªthe better to hide stains from the road. Next, five long-sleeved shirts made of hemp with pearl-inlaid buttons dyed in various shades of white, gray, and blue. And finally, a dark gray, heavy woolen jacket with sturdy stitching, a bright silky red lining, and carved-horn buttons meant to keep him warm and dry in any weather. Ward couldn¡¯t argue with the man, agreeing to the order along with several pairs of underwear and undershirts. As he was wrapping up the order and paying the man five hundred and fifty glories, he asked, ¡°What about hats?¡± ¡°You can see for yourself, I¡¯ve a few in stock.¡± The tailor, Mr. Thorn, pointed to a rack near the front of the store, almost hidden by a shelf full of cloth bolts. ¡°I recommend a dark one with a wide brim; it¡¯ll go with your coat and be wonderful for keeping rain out of your eyes. I use only the finest felted wool, and I¡¯ll throw in a brush that¡¯ll be handy for keeping it and your coat in good order.¡± Ward nodded and walked over to the rack, choosing one that looked a lot like a bowler but with a much wider brim. He turned it over, noticing the silky gray lining and hatband, hand-stitched and embroidered with little jumping deer. ¡°Beautiful work.¡± He pressed it to the top of his head and was stunned to find it a perfect fit. ¡°I guess it¡¯s fate. I¡¯ll take this too, Mr. Thorn.¡± ¡°An excellent choice, Ward. You¡¯ll cut quite the figure once I¡¯m done with your order. I should charge more for the materials, considering the measurements!¡± ¡°He¡¯s not that big, Mr. Thorn!¡± Fay laughed. ¡°I could make two coats to fit me for every one of his!¡± ¡°Well, I don¡¯t have a slender, elegant figure like you, sir.¡± The banter had gone back and forth like that the entire time Ward had been in the shop, and he enjoyed it. ¡°Quite right!¡± Mr. Thorn laughed, adding, ¡°Leave the hat with me, and I¡¯ll monogram it with the rest of your order. You said your last name was Dyer?¡± ¡°That¡¯s right.¡± Ward returned to the counter and set the hat down. ¡°Fifty for the hat.¡± ¡°A bargain!¡± Ward chuckled as he slapped a few glories on the counter. ¡°You¡¯ll deliver it all to the inn?¡± Fay asked, moving to stand next to Ward. ¡°I¡¯m hungry!¡± She elbowed him in the ribs. ¡°That¡¯s my cue, sir.¡± Ward reached out to shake Mr. Thorn¡¯s hand as the tailor assured Fay he¡¯d have the clothes delivered to the inn within three days. They stepped outside into the brisk air, and Ward¡¯s stomach rumbled despite his big breakfast. He could smell things cooking in the air, and, coupled with the woodsmoke, the scents brought vivid meals to his imagination. ¡°Where do you want to get lunch?¡± ¡°It¡¯s a pity you don¡¯t have your new clothes!¡± She turned and started up the street. ¡°Not to worry¡ªI know a place where even a ruffian like you might gain entry!¡± ¡°Lord, she has the hots for you!¡± Grace laughed, suddenly walking beside Ward. ¡°I thought you were a bad flirt, but she¡¯s pushing it to a new level.¡± Ward, in too good a mood to let Grace¡¯s ribbing get to him, reached over and pulled her into his side, squeezing her in a brief hug. ¡°Don¡¯t spoil a lovely day,¡± he said softly. ¡°Hmm?¡± Fay turned, smiling. ¡°Come walk beside me!¡± Ward winked at Grace, let go of her shoulders, then hurried to walk beside Fay. While they walked, the barefoot devil began to speak, hardly taking a breath between sentences, ¡°You made a nice haul from that sapphire. You should consider buying a mount or other vehicle to get to the next city. You need to buy a map so we can try to figure out where Nevkin went. Don¡¯t forget about toiletries! Also, I think¡ª¡± Ward made a show of clearing his throat and gave Grace a shove, sending her stumbling into the street. ¡°Excuse me!¡± He covered the movement by pretending to stumble on a loose cobble. Grace glared at him. ¡°That was rude, Ward, and I¡¯ll get you back! Good luck eating soup without looking like a moron anytime soon!¡± Ward shivered slightly as her words came to him, and he realized he¡¯d just picked a fight he couldn¡¯t hope to win. ¡°Chilly?¡± Fay asked, gripping his elbow tighter and leaning into him. She was getting friendly, and Ward wasn¡¯t sure how he felt about all that. She was probably in her late twenties; he looked like a healthy thirty-something, but he was, in reality, probably old enough to be her dad. He cringed at the thought, trying to grapple with the moral implications. It didn¡¯t help that, only that morning, Grace had reminded him about his demeanor back on Earth. The thoughts wouldn¡¯t leave him, and he must have shown his disquiet because, during lunch, Fay made a few comments about him seeming stressed, which he brushed off as just getting used to being out of the catacombs. They were in a simple restaurant¡ªa counter behind which a woman made soups and flatbreads and only a handful of little tables out front. Fay claimed she loved it, especially when the weather turned chilly, and Ward couldn¡¯t argue; the soup was delicious, and, thankfully, Grace hadn¡¯t knocked his spoon out of his hand even once. After they¡¯d eaten in silence for nearly ten minutes, Fay blurted, ¡°What¡¯s got you so somber all of a sudden?¡± ¡°Eh, honestly?¡± ¡°Sure, I wouldn¡¯t ask if I wanted a lie.¡± Fay snorted and slurped a spoonful of broth from her bowl of ¡°game hen¡± soup. ¡°All right, what if I told you I was quite a lot older than I look?¡± ¡°Wouldn¡¯t surprise me much¡ªsorcerers don¡¯t age like normal folk.¡± ¡°Huh. So, yeah. Doesn¡¯t that creep you out? I could be your dad.¡± ¡°Oh, gods! No, you couldn¡¯t! He¡¯s long gone, run off with a tailor or seamstress or some such¡ªthe story changes depending on how drunk my auntie is when she¡¯s telling it.¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t mean literally.¡± ¡°I know, silly. I¡¯m just saying you aren¡¯t even a little bit like my so-called father. Anyway, I don¡¯t care. I¡¯ve talked to a thousand old folks at the inn, and you know what most of ¡®em tell me when I ask what it¡¯s like?¡± ¡°What?¡± ¡°They tell me they can¡¯t believe it¡ªthey¡¯re still kids in their minds, still the same person who used to race in the derby or dance in the fair or any number of things younger folks do. So, if your body¡¯s young, and you don¡¯t feel old in here,¡± she reached over the small, wobbly table to poke him in the chest, ¡°then why do I care if you¡¯ve seen a few more years than I have? It¡¯s not like I¡¯m a little, innocent girl, you know.¡± When he lifted an eyebrow as if contemplating her words, she added, ¡°Besides, what¡¯s got you thinking about all that? We¡¯re just spending some time together, doing some shopping.¡± ¡°Ah . . .¡± Ward started, but Fay winked at him, and he chuckled. ¡°Right. No big deal at all.¡± After that, he relaxed a good deal. Their conversation turned toward local topics¡ªthe fair, the horse races, which Fay was desperately looking forward to, the mayor, and how he¡¯d been lying about upgrading the sewer lines near the town center for three years. After a brief lull, Ward asked if she knew who might sell him a good horse. He¡¯d seen horses in town and, along with the sighting, come to realize that these people were clearly human, if a bit differently evolved than those on Earth. Still, he couldn¡¯t wrap his head around it¡ªhow could a distant planet have things like horses, pigs, chickens, and humans running around? ¡°I wonder¡ª¡± Ward was cut off as the soup shop¡¯s little door burst open, and a woman in a bright red cloak, red-faced and harried looking, rushed through, exclaiming to the woman behind the counter, ¡°Geniffa! Did you hear about the attack? Up in the villa district?¡± ¡°Hmm? Well, good afternoon, cousin! No, I¡¯ve been on the soup all day¡ªcould have used a little help earlier¡ª¡± ¡°Oh dear! The poor girl who¡¯d just come out of the catacombs! Her folks dead and her nearly gone herself! She had to fight off the attacker¡ªhe¡¯s still at large! The watch is out in the streets up there; I¡¯d imagine they¡¯ll be sweeping through here eventually.¡± Ward didn¡¯t realize he¡¯d stood up, but his chair clattered to the floor behind him, snapping his attention back to the scene at hand; in his mind, he was already running through town to check on Haley. ¡°I gotta go, Fay. I think I know the girl who was attacked.¡± 29. Murder 29 ¨C Murder When Ward, with Fay close behind, approached the gated community where Haley lived, he noticed the cluster of city guards standing around, turning people away, disbursing any crowds that started to form. They all wore the same uniform and gear¡ªpolished steel helmets that covered the tops of their heads, gray and blue tabards over steel-studded leather coats, and long, hardwood cudgels looped around their wrists. As Ward continued toward them, ignoring their frowns and discouraging glares, a short, very stocky one waved his cudgel in front of him, pointing up the street. ¡°Move along!¡± ¡°I need to go in.¡± Ward leaned on his spear, wishing he had his new clothes because, in his opinion, he looked something like a vagrant in the hand-me-downs Fan had gathered for him. At least he wasn¡¯t still wearing his backpack; they¡¯d dropped it at the inn on the way across town. ¡°Nobody getting in, friend. Now shove off.¡± He gestured again with his baton. ¡°The hell did you just say?¡± Ward growled, glaring. ¡°Hey!¡± one of the other guards barked, a tall, dark-skinned fellow with uncanny, pale-green eyes. ¡°He said move on!¡± Ward looked the guards over. There were five of them, and they all looked fit and wore peeved scowls as though someone had come along and pissed in their coffee cups. He wanted to see Haley¡ªwanted to help her, comfort her¡ªbut he didn¡¯t think trying to fight five guards was the right move. He held up his hands, shifting his spear to the crook of his arm. ¡°Look, fellas, I¡¯m not trying to cause trouble. I¡¯m just worried about Haley¡ªshe¡¯s lost a lot of family recently; you know her brother just died in the catacombs, yeah? Can you tell me if she¡¯s got someone with her? Is she alone? How hurt is she?¡± He felt Fay move to stand beside him, gripping his elbow¡ªwhether to show support or to restrain him, Ward couldn¡¯t tell. The first guard, the one who told Ward to shove off, backed up a step as the other green-eyed fellow stepped closer. ¡°I understand. We¡¯re all on edge, and the hysterical crowds aren¡¯t helping. You know Efrud¡¯s daughter, huh?¡± ¡°They were in the catacombs together!¡± Fay said, shifting to lean closer, her voice carrying a note of exasperation. The guard¡¯s eyes snapped wide, and he looked closer at Ward¡¯s face, nodding. ¡°Ah, you¡¯re that one who came out with her, huh? Yeah, I didn¡¯t notice your eyes in the lamplight. The captain wanted to speak to you anyway.¡± He turned to the guards blocking the road. ¡°Let ¡®em through.¡± ¡°But, Sarge¡ª¡± the stocky bully started to whine, but the sergeant held up a hand, cutting him off. ¡°Lavin, you walk ¡®em up. Make sure the captain sees ¡®em.¡± A different man stepped forward, slamming a fist to his chest, ¡°Sarge!¡± Then, he turned to Ward and Fay. ¡°Follow me, civilians!¡± He was tall and young, and his Adam¡¯s apple bobbed prominently while he spoke. Ward shrugged and started after him. As soon as they¡¯d passed by the gate, he hurried his step to walk beside the young man. ¡°Lavin, is it? How¡¯s Haley? Is she conscious?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know, civilian! You¡¯ll have to ask the captain!¡± Lavin spoke loudly, staring straight ahead while he marched, and Ward began to think he might have something wrong with him. He slowed, falling back beside Fay. ¡°Do you know any of these guys?¡± ¡°I¡¯ve seen ¡®em around town, I¡¯m sure, but no, not personally. Don¡¯t take their behavior to heart; we don¡¯t see many murders in Tarnish, at least not in people¡¯s homes, and I¡¯m sure they¡¯re feeling the stress.¡± Ward looked around, wondering where Grace was. Still ¡°resting?¡± He¡¯d been surprised to hear from her that she¡¯d been staying up listening for attackers, but it made him wonder if Haley was a victim of what she¡¯d feared¡ªan assassin sent by Nevkin. He felt a little peeved at himself for not realizing this might happen. No, it was more that he¡¯d brushed off Grace¡¯s concern. He still pictured Nevkin as an awkward, strangely competent young man. His experience of him as a double-crossing thief was too brief. ¡°Double-crosser, yeah, but a murderer?¡± ¡°What?¡± Lavin asked, briefly glaring at Ward. ¡°Nothing.¡± He saw the cobbled path leading up to Haley¡¯s house and, up on the porch, two men standing and talking, one of them wearing colors similar to the town guards. ¡°That the captain?¡± ¡°Yes!¡± Lavin double-timed it, moving ahead of Ward. ¡°Captain! I¡¯ve got the man you wanted to question! The one from the catacombs!¡± Ward slowed and approached the sidewalk, for the first time wondering if this could spell trouble. What if these clowns thought he¡¯d done the killing? What kind of laws were enforced in this town? What kinds of rights did citizens have? What about strangers? All of his experience as a detective, all the laws and statutes he¡¯d had to memorize¡ªnone of it would help the fact that he didn¡¯t know squat about the legal system in this place. ¡°Guess I can learn,¡± he muttered as the two men walked down the path, brushing past the stiffly saluting Lavin. The captain was a fit man who looked to be in his fifties. He wore a neat, short gray beard, held his chest out like a bit of a rooster, and clearly took pains to polish his leather belt and boots. The other man was smaller, wore a neat two-toned green suit, and carried a heavy-looking black leather case. Ward leaned on his spear, putting himself in front of Fay, and watched them approach. ¡°You¡¯re Ward?¡± the captain asked, stopping a few feet away. ¡°That¡¯s right.¡± ¡°Surname?¡± ¡°Dyer.¡± ¡°Ward Dyer? Your father was a dye master?¡± ¡°Uh . . .¡± Ward shrugged. What did it matter? ¡°Sure. Is Haley all right?¡± ¡°She¡¯ll recover with some rest,¡± the green-suited man replied. He had a rather high voice and spoke from the back of his throat. When he looked briefly into Ward¡¯s eyes, Ward saw that he wore a monocle that looked almost like it was permanent; its gem-studded golden base seemed molded to his flesh. ¡°I¡¯ll ask the questions if you gentlemen don¡¯t mind.¡± The captain shifted slightly, placing part of his body between Ward and the man in green. ¡°Ward, would you care to tell me what you did upon returning to town? When was that? This morning?¡± ¡°He got back last night! Why are you asking him these questions?¡± Fay stepped forward, folding her arms. ¡°Shouldn¡¯t you all be finding the killer instead of harassing people who care about the victim?¡± ¡°That¡¯s enough, miss . . .?¡± ¡°Fayella Gildenhearth!¡± ¡°Gildenhearth? Are you from out of town as well?¡± ¡°No! My aunt owns the Hen¡¯s Nest! I¡¯ve seen you in there a dozen times, Captain Figran!¡± ¡°Ah, yes. Yes, yes, yes.¡± He nodded, stroking his chin. ¡°Yes, I remember you now, Fayella.¡± He smiled. Like a switch being flipped, Ward could see him dismiss Fay from his mind as he refocused on him. ¡°So, can you answer the question?¡± Ward was honestly relieved to have the man asking. It meant he was still at least considering the idea that Ward hadn¡¯t had anything to do with the murder. It sounded almost like he meant to carry out just the type of investigation Ward had spent half his life conducting. ¡°Sure. I went back to the inn, got cleaned up, ate and drank, then slept. When I woke, I ate some more at the inn, and then Fay and I spent the morning shopping. We were having lunch when I heard about what happened here.¡± ¡°Is that so? Are you forgetting something?¡± ¡°Huh?¡± ¡°I¡¯ve heard from two witnesses that you visited the victims in their home.¡± He jerked his head over his shoulder, indicating the house behind him. ¡°Oh, shit. Yeah, of course. I thought you meant after that because that¡¯s the first thing we did when we got into town¡ªI walked Haley here, met her folks, then went to the inn.¡± Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. ¡°Interesting.¡± He nodded, still stroking his chin, then, after glancing again at Fay, asked, ¡°You¡¯re still at the Hen¡¯s Nest? Planning to stay there?¡± ¡°Yeah, for now.¡± ¡°If you intend to leave town, please clear it with my office.¡± Without waiting for a response, he turned to the green-clad man. ¡°Doctor Broghious, have a good evening.¡± Then he turned to Fay, tipped his black high-topped hat, and walked away. Ward was glad he¡¯d left without securing a promise; he wasn¡¯t sure he¡¯d have given it. ¡°Pleasure,¡± the doctor said and started to walk away. ¡°Hold up!¡± Ward grabbed his shoulder, and the man flinched but turned to him, smiling sheepishly. ¡°Yes?¡± ¡°What happened?¡± Ward jerked his head toward the house. ¡°Oh. Quite a mess, I¡¯m afraid. Someone attacked the family in the early morning hours. The parents were killed in their bedroom, but it looked like the father put up enough of a struggle to wake the daughter. She came into the room and fought the attacker. The guards didn¡¯t find a body, so they¡¯re assuming the attacker got away. The young woman was badly wounded, near death, in fact.¡± ¡°Jesus.¡± ¡°Pardon?¡± ¡°What happened to her?¡± Fay cried, apparently more frustrated by the suspense than even Ward. ¡°Oh, she was stabbed several times.¡± The doctor shuddered. ¡°Gods! What a mess! I¡¯d hate to have to clean that house.¡± ¡°She¡¯s in there?¡± ¡°Yes. She¡¯s awake. Or, well, she was five minutes ago.¡± Ward turned to the house, ready to dismiss the doctor, but Fay pressed him with another question, ¡°She¡¯ll be all right?¡± ¡°Well, physically, yes. I administered a healing tonic and treated her wounds with cut-burn salve.¡± Fay¡¯s outraged cry caught Ward off guard, ¡°Cut-burn? Gods! Why not a mending or restorative salve?¡± ¡°Well, there¡¯s the expense, but¡ª¡± ¡°Seriously?¡± Fay leaned forward and grabbed the diminutive man¡¯s green lapels. ¡°You penny-pinching, dirty¡ª¡± The doctor jerked himself free of her grip and stumbled down the cobbles, utterly fleeing ahead of her wrath. When he was several steps away, he cried, ¡°She insisted!¡± Then he turned and briskly walked away. ¡°That little creep!¡± ¡°Wanna explain cut-burn?¡± Ward frowned; he didn¡¯t think he was going to like the answer. ¡°It¡¯s exactly what it sounds like. A paste they put on cuts to burn the wound closed. It¡¯s really, really painful and leaves bad scars!¡± Fay started up the steps, and Ward followed her, a simmering rage beginning to burn in his gut. When they reached the door, Fay calmed enough to remember she didn¡¯t know the family and backed up, watching Ward to see what he¡¯d do. He leaned his spear in the corner of the porch, then walked up to the door and hesitated, wondering if he should knock. He still wasn¡¯t sure if Haley was alone. He lifted his hand to the door but paused and glanced at Fay. ¡°I kind of wish you didn¡¯t chase that doctor away. Is she alone in there?¡± ¡°How would I know?¡± After another few seconds of deliberation, Ward gently rapped on the door with his knuckles. A moment later, he heard the tap of shoes on the wooden floor, and then the latch turned, and the door was pulled open. ¡°Hello?¡± The woman standing inside was older and very small, with long gray hair held up under a white kerchief. She wore a simple gray dress and held a large chopping knife in one hand, not unlike the one he¡¯d recently purchased for Fan. ¡°Are you with the marshal¡¯s office? That good-for-nothing guard captain said you¡¯d be days getting out this way.¡± ¡°Uh,¡± Ward frowned, confused by the question and sudden insight into the law enforcement situation. ¡°I¡¯m Ward, a friend of Haley¡¯s.¡± ¡°Oh, my. Yes, the man from the catacombs.¡± She backed up a step, frowning, holding the door where it was, about a quarter of the way open. ¡°She¡¯s not well, you know. She¡¯ll need her rest. Still, she¡¯s mentioned you several times. I wager she¡¯d be glad to see you.¡± ¡°Yeah, I¡¯d like to see her. Are you related?¡± ¡°Oh no! I¡¯m a neighbor. The captain asked me to look over her while she¡¯s under the influence of the doctor¡¯s tonic. I decided to make some soup.¡± She held up the knife and shrugged. ¡°Just chopped up the carrots.¡± ¡°Well, do you mind if we come in?¡± ¡°No! Of course not. Pardon me!¡± She backed up a step and waved them in. She gestured to the stairs off to the left-hand side of the foyer. ¡°Her room¡¯s the second door on the left in the hallway upstairs. The door should be open; I wanted to be able to hear if she called out. Please keep it that way.¡± Ward grunted in acknowledgment and started up the steps. Fay walked behind him, and, for some reason, he was glad she was there. Again, he looked for Grace, hardly believing she was missing out on everything, but saw no sign of her. When he stepped into the hallway, he saw the first blood spatters. Further on, toward the end of the hallway, blood was pooled a centimeter deep and coagulated into a sticky maroon-brown sludge with half a dozen sets of footprints in it. The smell was all too familiar to Ward. ¡°Gods,¡± Fay breathed. ¡°Yeah.¡± He looked into Haley¡¯s room, noted the spartan furnishings, and stepped over to the narrow bed next to the closed window. The foot of her bed was draped with a fluffy pink comforter, but Haley lay uncovered on the sheets, her head propped up on two pillows. She wore loose, comfortable-looking red pajamas, and when her wan face with its sunken, dark eyes turned toward him, he thought she might have tried to smile, but her mouth wouldn¡¯t respond. Instead, her lips trembled, and fresh tears spilled from the corners of her eyes, joining the others on her damp, shiny cheeks. ¡°Haley.¡± His voice was quiet, hoarse with emotion, and he hurried to stand beside her, grabbing her pale, slender hand. ¡°Ward.¡± Her lips twisted down at one corner as an involuntary sob joined his name. ¡°They . . . they¡¯re . . .¡± ¡°I know. I know. Hush.¡± Ward glanced toward Fay, aware the scene was probably awkward for her, but she¡¯d stepped out. Perhaps the gravity of the situation had finally hit home¡ªthe blood, the smell of murder, Haley lying traumatized in a dim room. He couldn¡¯t blame her for backing away. ¡°I hurt him, Ward. I hurt him badly. I broke some bones.¡± She squeezed his fingers with her hot, wiry ones. ¡°What did he look like?¡± ¡°Big. Your size. He had a thick, dark beard. I remember that. I think he thought I was dead.¡± More moisture had begun to flow from her eyes, and she sniffed, letting go of his hand to wipe her nose on her sleeve. Ward looked at her other arm and saw it was splinted and wrapped with gauze. ¡°Hurt your arm?¡± ¡°Broke my wrist. That¡¯s nothing, though. The tonic will help the bone mend. I¡¯m going to have some new scars.¡± She lifted the hem of her pajama top, showing Ward her pale, flat stomach and the three long, bright red scars left behind by the knife and the cauterizing ointment the ¡°doctor¡± had used. Ward had imagined something worse¡ªhe knew cauterizing a wound often left terrible scars and didn¡¯t do much to mend the internal damage. It looked like the ¡°cut-burn¡± was at least a little magical; she had bright red scars, but they weren¡¯t huge, and the burns, if that¡¯s what they were, looked well-healed already. ¡°I¡¯ve seen worse.¡± He winked at her, twitching half his mouth into a smile. ¡°Exactly what I expected you to say.¡± She sniffed, then added, ¡°I have another, but it¡¯s up higher. ¡°Well, I¡¯m glad you lived, kid. Goddamn, I wanna catch that sonofabitch. Anything else to go on? See more of his face than his beard?¡± Haley closed her eyes, inhaling slowly, visibly quelling several shuddering sobs. ¡°Dark eyes. Hooded head. Black stains on his hands, his fingers.¡± ¡°That¡¯s a lot. I¡¯ll find him. What do you think you broke?¡± ¡°Ribs. Maybe an arm. He¡¯ll have marks for sure; I hit him with a wolf fist. He¡¯ll either have to pay a lot, or any healing he gets will leave behind five puncture scars.¡± She held her uninjured hand out like a claw and poked her fingers against Ward¡¯s lower left side. ¡°Here.¡± ¡°All right. You focus on getting better, and I¡¯ll find him. Then we¡¯ll figure out why he was here. I have a bad suspicion¡ª¡± ¡°Nevkin.¡± Ward nodded. ¡°Yeah. Little bastard didn¡¯t want us thinking about coming after him.¡± Haley didn¡¯t respond but closed her eyes, and her breathing grew increasingly slow and steady. Ward wasn¡¯t sure if she¡¯d fallen asleep, so he said softly, ¡°I¡¯ll be back.¡± ¡°Wait. Promise me you won¡¯t kill him unless you know why he came here.¡± ¡°Oh, that¡¯s a promise. Believe it.¡± Ward started to turn, and then a thought occurred to him. ¡°Hey, you need money? Why¡¯d you cheap out on the healing?¡± ¡°The cut-burn? I could¡¯ve paid for better. I didn¡¯t want to. I want to remember these wounds. I want to remember this pain. I won¡¯t forget the day my parents¡ª¡± A choking sob interrupted her, and she scowled, shaking her head. Firmly, vehemently, she growled, ¡°The day my parents died.¡± ¡°You were conscious?¡± When she nodded, that defiant expression still burning in her eyes, Ward reached up and rubbed the back of his head, also nodding. ¡°Okay. I get it. I¡¯ll come see you tomorrow. Let you know what I find out.¡± He did know what she meant. He¡¯d had plenty of buddies personify scars they¡¯d picked up on duty. They gave them names and associated them with dead friends, atrocities witnessed, and trauma endured. Ward had a couple of his own on his left leg and shoulder¡ªtwo bullets that could¡¯ve done a lot more than poke holes in him. A few other bullets fired from the same gun had killed two of his patrol buddies. ¡°Thank you, Ward.¡± He smiled at her grimly and turned, finding Fay waiting for him in the hallway. She took hold of his arm as they walked out, and as they descended the steps, she said, ¡°I feel so awful for her. Ward, I¡¯m going to pick up some supplies from the inn and bring Willard with me to clean this place up for her.¡± ¡°That¡¯s really sweet, Fay. Give me a few minutes before we leave. I¡¯m going to look over the scene to see if I can spot anything that might help lead me to her killer.¡± While he spoke, the neighbor lady stepped around the corner and gestured to the door. ¡°Thank you for not lingering.¡± ¡°Just a minute. I need to look over the murder scene. I¡¯m going to help the, uh, marshal find the killer.¡± ¡°Oh? Well, that¡¯s helpful, I suppose. I hate knowing the man who killed poor Efrud and Vinera is still out there!¡± She looked Ward up and down, then stepped forward, proffering her hand. ¡°I¡¯m Minerra, by the way.¡± Ward inhaled through his nose, looked around the room, then shrugged and took her hand. ¡°I¡¯m Ward.¡± He looked at the stairs, ¡°Now, if you¡¯ll excuse me, as I said, I need to examine the scene. We have a killer to find.¡± 30. Clues and Bullets 30 ¨C Clues and Bullets Ward gingerly tried to step on wooden planks that weren¡¯t smeared with blood as he entered the scene of the murder. ¡°What a shitshow.¡± He held his rough-spun sleeve over his nose, grimacing at the thick, acrid tang of drying blood and bile. He¡¯d left Fay downstairs chatting with the neighbor lady and was just talking to himself, but it wasn¡¯t a great surprise when Grace cleared her throat and replied. ¡°Whoever did this wasn¡¯t any sort of professional.¡± Ward turned toward the sound of her voice and frowned. ¡°Where have you been?¡± ¡°I told you! Resting. Don¡¯t ask me to explain it, but being with you¡ªbeing conscious¡ªtakes effort. I don¡¯t know how it wears me out, considering I don¡¯t have a body, but it does.¡± ¡°Well, help me spot some clues in this damn mess.¡± The room was a disaster. It wasn¡¯t just the blood, either. While the dark smears were awful and numerous¡ªon the floors, staining the bed sheets, splashed on the walls¡ªthey were only part of it. A broken chair, shattered vase, chunks of plaster knocked off the walls, and clumps of feathers from a ruptured pillow all contributed to the chaotic mess. Ward carefully stepped around the thicker blood stains, though he wasn¡¯t sure why¡ªhe could see that the city guards, the doctor, and probably the mayor and neighbors had all walked through the room. Despite that, he could sort of pick out where the majority of the fighting had taken place and where Haley¡¯s parents had died¡ªone in the bed and one against the wall near the door. He could tell because of the thick, coagulating pools of blood. He stepped around the bed to the wall with the large chunks of missing plaster, noting how they¡¯d scattered on the floor. ¡°Looks like he tried to stab one of ¡®em here. They dodged, and he drove the point of his knife into the plaster. Shit, three times.¡± ¡°Probably Haley; I can¡¯t see her old dad being that nimble.¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± Ward walked around some more, noting the smears and handprints on the floor leading to the biggest pool of coagulated blood. ¡°Dad went down here, crawled his way to the wall there, and I think our killer gave him a few extra holes in his back for good measure.¡± ¡°Does this remind you of any crime scenes you¡¯ve seen?¡± ¡°Yeah, sure. I¡¯ve worked a few murder scenes. This one¡¯s a lot messier than the killer planned, I¡¯ll tell you that much. I wish I¡¯d seen the bodies, but I bet the mom didn¡¯t get stabbed more than once or twice.¡± Ward walked over to the bed, pointing to the deep red stain on the sheets, still moist at the center. ¡°He got her in an artery or the heart. She bled out here quickly¡ªdidn¡¯t move at all. I bet that¡¯s when Dad woke up, realized what was happening, and started fighting and yelling.¡± ¡°Where¡¯d the killer run when he thought he¡¯d killed Haley?¡± Grace moved over to the window and pointed near the sill. ¡°I think he came in and out through here; the bottom of the window¡¯s all chipped up.¡± Ward went to confirm, lifting the window open, and sure enough, he could see where a prybar had broken the latch. He stuck his head outside and looked around. ¡°Yeah. Garden shed backs up to the house here. Killer could¡¯ve climbed up onto it, then in through this window. He¡¯d have to be fit enough to do a pull-up or two.¡± Ward scanned the ground around the shed, noting the fresh mulch in the flower bed leading into the backyard garden. ¡°What am I doing, anyway? We can¡¯t do prints, can¡¯t do DNA, I¡¯m not gonna find any cameras or anything. I guess I need a bloodhound or something.¡± ¡°Well, I think you were hoping to find a scrap of clothing or the murder weapon, maybe. What did Haley tell you about the killer?¡± ¡°You didn¡¯t listen at all?¡± ¡°I was¡ª¡± ¡°Resting. Right. Forget it. She gave me some clues. Said the killer had black stains on his hands, said she broke some bones and left him some wounds that¡¯ll scar on his ribs here.¡± Ward slapped his palm against his lower left side. ¡°Hmm, he¡¯s about my size with a big black beard and dark eyes.¡± ¡°Seems like a lot to go on. Well, if his hands were stained and not just, you know, dirty, I¡¯d say he¡¯s either someone who works with pitch or ink. From the rest of the description, I¡¯d lean toward pitch.¡± ¡°Pitch? As in tar?¡± Grace nodded. ¡°Yeah. People who work with the stuff usually have stained hands; I saw plenty of ¡®em back in the day when I was with Hamlin, er, when he was my host. It¡¯s used for waterproofing¡ªboats, roofs, that kind of thing.¡± ¡°Well, as there¡¯s no dock in this town, I¡¯m going to go with a roofer.¡± Ward clapped his hands, rubbing them together briskly. ¡°Nice work, Grace! We¡¯ve got our first lead.¡± He turned and, trying to avoid the blood splatters, hurried back down the hall and into the foyer. Fay was nibbling on a dry-looking biscuit, still standing near the hallway chatting with the neighbor lady. ¡°Let¡¯s go, Fay.¡± When he pulled the door open, he turned back to the neighbor. ¡°Um, Minerva, was it?¡± ¡°Minerra.¡± She smiled with her eyes as she corrected him, and Ward nodded quickly. ¡°Right, right. Well, Minerra, thanks for looking after Haley. We¡¯ll¡ªer, at least I¡¯ll be back.¡± ¡°Oh, I¡¯m coming back, too! Like I said earlier, I¡¯ll help clean the place up. Poor girl shouldn¡¯t have to see all that when she gets up!¡± ¡°That¡¯s a fact.¡± Ward pulled the door open wide and motioned for Fay to precede him out. ¡°Speak to you soon.¡± ¡°Walk safely. Mind the shadows if you truly are hunting the killer!¡± Ward reflected on the lady¡¯s parting words. Was that something people said in this world¡ªmind the shadows? He pushed the door shut, and Fay asked, ¡°Did you find anything?¡± ¡°Not really. The scene was a mess. Tell me about the law around here; what¡¯s the deal with the marshal?¡± ¡°Oh, marshals work for the Assembly. He won¡¯t be here anytime soon.¡± ¡°Assembly?¡± ¡°The Vainglory Assembly? They¡¯re . . . well, I guess they¡¯re the rulers of this system. I¡¯ve never seen one of the delegates, not up close anyway. Tarnish has one, of course, being a city with a challenge. I didn¡¯t vote, though. What does it matter to me if the rich lady from Bee¡¯s End or the rich man from Rivercrest Row represents the city? I¡¯ve never seen any difference in my life when our delegate changed.¡± Ward was starting to fill in the blanks. ¡°So, they¡¯re like a republic or something? A government for all the worlds? Who can be a member?¡± ¡°Cities or groups of cities that manage one of the challenges. I think there are a hundred and fifty-two delegates. Yeah, that sounds right to me.¡± She nodded to herself, looking up at the pale blue sky as they walked. ¡°And marshals work for them. So, the marshal doesn¡¯t live nearby?¡± ¡°Oh no! He¡¯ll be coming out of Port Granite.¡± When Ward frowned at her, she laughed and waved her hand off to the left, ¡°That¡¯s a city quite a bit larger than Tarnish to the north.¡± Ward mulled over her words for a few minutes while they walked. None of it mattered in the near term; he had to find the killer because he wanted justice for Haley and because he wanted to know if Nevkin had been involved. If he had, that meant Ward needed to have an eye open for a similar kind of attack. It made no difference to him if some representative from the government would be coming along to ¡°investigate.¡± No, he needed to get this sorted soon, not on some bureaucrat¡¯s timeline. ¡°Can we stop by a store? I mean, like a general store. I need some personal items.¡± If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. ¡°Sure. There¡¯s one near the inn. Oh! Do you mind if we stop by Mr. Frine¡¯s?¡± ¡°Mr. Frine?¡± Fay playfully smacked herself on the forehead. ¡°He¡¯s the artificer I told you about. The man who¡¯s making my teeth. We¡¯re close to his shop.¡± ¡°Oh, definitely! I was hoping to meet him.¡± Ward was interested in Fay¡¯s teeth but equally interested in what else the artificer might be able to craft. He had a feeling someone with that kind of talent might have some better ideas about bullets for his .357. His new spear was decent, but it was also a bulky pain in the ass. Walking around with it, dealing with going into shops and houses, he was already starting to regret his choice. Almost as a case in point for his current thoughts, he had to leave the spear leaning against the awning post of Mr. Frine¡¯s shop; his doorway was narrow and low, and the interior ceiling barely cleared Ward¡¯s head. ¡°Mr. Frine?¡± Fay called, wending between glass display cases that displayed jewelry and trinkets of all sorts, from rings and necklaces to watches to smoking pipes and carved figurines. ¡°Just a moment!¡± a high-pitched, piping voice called from the back of the shop. Ward followed Fay to the counter and leaned against the smooth, well-oiled, butcherblock-style top. A moment later, a very small man came through a pair of swinging doors, carrying a foil-wrapped jar that ticked and hissed as he set it on the counter. ¡°Ah! Fayella! I¡¯ve never been happier to finish a project. You see these gray hairs?¡± He brushed a finger through his thick, bushy, salt-and-pepper sideburns. ¡°Those are due to you!¡± ¡°Oh, Mr. Frine! I wasn¡¯t that bad, was I? I made a point not to stop by more than once a day!¡± Fay grinned, displaying her missing teeth with a mischievous glint in her eye. Mr. Frine was more than small; he looked like a child with an adult face. His hair looked tousled or like he¡¯d just woken up, and his dapper, collared shirt and apron were stained with dozens of colors. Ward couldn¡¯t tell if the stains were ink, food, or some other concoction. Ward held out a hand. ¡°I¡¯m Ward.¡± Mr. Frine looked him up and down, frowning, before taking hold of it in a surprisingly firm grip. ¡°Rul Frine.¡± He nodded, released Ward¡¯s hand, and then turned back to Fay. ¡°Well? Are you ready?¡± ¡°Yes!¡± ¡°Okay, this¡¯ll just take a minute and shouldn¡¯t hurt too badly. Nevertheless, I¡¯ll give you a numbing tonic.¡± Fay didn¡¯t respond but leaned closer, and her grin widened. Mr. Frine rummaged under the counter for a minute, then produced a small, clear vial with pale blue fluid inside. ¡°Hold this in your mouth, swishing it around, until I tell you to stop.¡± Ward watched while Fay complied, tipping the little container to her lips and noisily swishing it with puffed-out cheeks. Meanwhile, Mr. Frine produced a pair of tweezers and carefully began removing the foil from the sizzling jar. ¡°I added a bit more catalyst than I wanted, but it sped up the mana gathering in the teeth.¡± ¡°Why wouldn¡¯t you want to add more catalyst?¡± Ward asked, curious how this whole thing worked. ¡°The expense,¡± Mr. Frine scowled at Fay, ¡°and, sometimes, if you gather mana too quickly, you can cause the medium to fail¡ªturning to dust. Luckily, I skirted that line.¡± He watched Fay for another few seconds. ¡°You can swallow now.¡±¡¯ Fay swallowed noisily, then stuck out her tongue, ¡°Blech! Bitter!¡± Mr. Frine didn¡¯t reply, but Ward saw a corner of his mouth quirk upward in a half smile. He reached into the jar with his tweezers, pulling out a small, shiny object that Ward took to be one of Fay¡¯s new teeth. Rather than the traditional roots you see on dental brochures, this one had a single, sharp point on the top. ¡°As soon as it feels your blood, it¡¯ll start to grow into place, so you need to hold still!¡± ¡°I will,¡± Fay said, slurring and drooling. Ward snorted in laughter, and Mr. Frine sighed heavily. ¡°Open up and be still!¡± Fay complied, resting her elbows on the counter and leaning forward. She opened her mouth wide. Mr. Frine maneuvered the tooth with the tweezers, turning it so it faced the right way, then gently sliding it into the upper gap in Fay¡¯s dentition. Ward watched, fascinated, as the little man pushed the pointy end into her gum, immediately bringing forth a bead of blood that ran down over the shiny tooth. Fay held still but grunted, ¡°Ung!¡± ¡°Be still! It¡¯s taking root.¡± Mr. Frine let go of the tooth and reached into the jar to pull out the other. ¡°Good, Fayella! If I¡¯d known this would keep you quiet, I¡¯d have found a way to do this sooner.¡± While Fay scowled and drooled out the corners of her mouth, he placed the second tooth in her lower gap. He set the tweezers down and nodded. ¡°That¡¯ll work nicely! Hold still that way for another few minutes.¡± ¡°Hey,¡± Ward interjected, ¡°While we¡¯re waiting for her teeth to get settled, do you mind if I ask your opinion on a project?¡± ¡°Of course, but only if you promise that if we do business, you¡¯ll have more patience than Fayella here.¡± ¡°Yeah, I think I can manage that.¡± Ward winked at Fay and gave her a jostle with his elbow. Then he reached into his shoulder holster and pulled out his revolver. ¡°I have this gun that I¡¯m pretty fond of, but I can¡¯t find ammunition for it around here.¡± ¡°Oh?¡± The little man watched intently while Ward popped open the cylinder and shook out four empty casings and his last two live rounds. He set them on the counter beside the pistol. ¡°I¡¯ve got fifteen or so empty casings like that, but you can see the bullets are a bit more sophisticated than the guns around here use.¡± Ward picked up one of the live rounds and tilted it, showing Mr. Frine the primer. ¡°My gun¡¯s hammer hits this primer, which ignites the powder, propelling the bullet through the barrel. I guess much of that is similar in principle to the breech-loaders around here.¡± ¡°Yes. The guns here use alchemical fire and are ignited with a spark. Though if we made one of those bullets this small, it wouldn¡¯t do much damage.¡± Mr. Frine picked up one of the pistol rounds and turned it over in his fingers. ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s the thing; these bullets are a hell of a lot faster and more accurate than those I¡¯ve seen around here. They do a lot more damage, too. It¡¯s down to the gunpowder¡ªthe, uh, alchemical fire. The stuff in my bullets is more powerful than what you folks use.¡± Mr. Frine picked up the gun, slowly nodding. He turned it around in his hands, admiring the smooth clicking of the cylinder, and peered through the barrel. ¡°Quite a piece of craftsmanship. If what you say is true and these little bullets are more powerful, I can see why you¡¯d want to replicate them. Having six shots in one load would be quite advantageous.¡± ¡°I spoke to a tinker a while back who said he had an alchemist buddy who might be able to replicate them. He had some crazy notions of using unstable chemical mixtures for the primers, though.¡± Ward shrugged, shaking his head. ¡°I don¡¯t need my bullets blowing up if I jostle ¡®em wrong, you understand?¡± Mr. Frine nodded, still examining the pistol. He pulled back the hammer and watched it slam home when he pulled the trigger. ¡°You call this part the hammer?¡± Ward nodded, and he set the gun down, picking up an empty casing. ¡°I understand what you mean. I could artifice casings for you that, when struck by your pistol¡¯s hammer, would emit fire on the inside. They¡¯d be reusable; the ¡®primer¡¯ wouldn¡¯t be spent with one application of the hammer. Of course, you¡¯d need to reload the casing with a new bullet and alchemical fire, but that would solve one of your problems, at least.¡± ¡°That would definitely make things easier; I could talk to an alchemist about some more potent alchemical fire, right?¡± ¡°Certainly. There are many grades of the stuff.¡± Mr. Frine set the casing down, picked up the gun again, and peered through the barrel. ¡°What are these tiny, swirling lines inside the barrel? Do they serve a purpose?¡± At the question, Ward had a sudden, unexpected moral quandary. Was it right for him to explain rifling to this man? Would he be unleashing a new era of gun dominance upon this quaintly backward world? Thinking about the monks he¡¯d seen dueling in the street and remembering that Cinder was the ¡°lowest¡± of the Vainglory worlds, he decided it was a pointless worry; he didn¡¯t think ordinary bullets would serve him for long once he began to advance up the ladder, assuming he lived that long. In the meantime, machining a barrel with rifling wasn¡¯t an easy task, and he didn¡¯t see them being mass-produced anytime soon. ¡°That¡¯s called rifling. It makes the bullet spin, which adds to its accuracy.¡± ¡°Aha! Is that why the bullets in those live rounds aren¡¯t round?¡± ¡°Yeah, I guess. I¡¯m not a bullet expert, but I think the rifling keeps the bullet from tumbling; it flies straight. Speaking of which, do you know someone who can forge me a bunch of lead bullets shaped like this?¡± ¡°I have a small forge. As you see, I craft jewelry and tinker with small devices. I can also source the alchemical fire for you. I have many contacts.¡± Mr. Frine looked at Fay, and Ward followed his gaze. She was still holding her mouth open, leaning forward, drooling prodigiously. ¡°You can close your mouth, Fayella, but don¡¯t speak yet. Let your new teeth settle into your jaw.¡± He winked so quickly and surreptitiously at Ward that he almost missed it. Ward felt a little sorry for Fay, but he couldn¡¯t deny the humor in Mr. Frine¡¯s harmless retribution for her pestering. Masking his grin by rubbing his chin, he asked, ¡°So, what are we talking about, price-wise?¡± ¡°If you promise not to harass me during the process, I¡¯ll make you twenty casings for a thousand glories.¡± ¡°And they¡¯ll be reusable?¡± ¡°Oh yes. Many times. I¡¯ll load them for you, too, free of charge, and after I¡¯ve gotten the composition just right, I¡¯ll provide some extra alchemical fire and the formula.¡± Ward thought about it; after purchasing his spear, armor, and new clothing, he had something like twenty-five hundred glories. Were a thousand glories worth it to get more bullets for his pistol? Considering they might prove obsolete if he kept working through the challenges like Grace wanted, he wasn¡¯t sure. On the other hand, he¡¯d made his money pretty damn easily, too, and didn¡¯t it stand to reason that the further challenges would reward him even more? ¡°All right, deal.¡± Ward held out his hand, and Mr. Frine quickly clasped it. ¡°I¡¯ll need one of your unfired bullets.¡± Ward slid one of his last two bullets toward the little man, then picked up the rest. As he holstered his gun, he put an arm around Fay¡¯s shoulders, turning her toward the door. ¡°Come on, Fay. Let¡¯s go buy me a toothbrush and a few other things, and then we¡¯ll get you back to the inn before your aunt hires a bounty hunter.¡± 31. Back-alley Brawl 31 ¨C Back-alley Brawl When they returned to the inn late that afternoon, Ward went to the suite he was sharing with Fay and Fan, deposited his spear, and tried out his new toothbrush. It was made of pale blond wood, and the bristles were cut from badger hair, according to the shopkeeper. The idea wasn¡¯t appealing to Ward, but he didn¡¯t see himself inventing nylon anytime soon, so he gave it a try. His ¡°toothpaste¡± was a mint-flavored powder, and despite the archaic nature of it and his new brush, when he was finished cleaning his teeth, he felt like a new man. He shook the moisture out of the dark, stiff bristles and then took off his shirt, applying some of the ¡°deodorizing powder¡± he¡¯d purchased to his armpits. It reminded him of talc but had a musky, woodsy scent, and he rather liked it. Ward chuckled to himself, wondering if he was going to find painkillers mixed with cocaine and opium-rich cough syrups in this world. When he left the room, he took a good look at the spear but decided not to take it. It would probably be great if he had to face off against more lizard men, but he didn¡¯t want to lug it around while he interviewed carpenters and crafts folk about roofers they may know. Nevertheless, he wore his pistol, and though his borrowed pants didn¡¯t have loops for a belt, he¡¯d affixed his knife to the left-hand strap of his shoulder holster. ¡°I hope that guy comes through with my clothing delivery tomorrow.¡± He spoke into the empty room, but some part of him had grown used to Grace watching him all the time, so when she spoke up, he wasn¡¯t caught off guard. ¡°I do, too. It¡¯s almost embarrassing walking around with you dressed like that.¡± Ward snorted. ¡°How can you be embarrassed if no one can see you?¡± ¡°I¡¯m embarrassed for you, dummy.¡± Grace hadn¡¯t followed him through the door, but she somehow stood before him, and he couldn¡¯t recall her suddenly appearing out of nowhere. As he thought about it, Ward couldn¡¯t remember ever seeing her appear. She was either there or not. ¡°Must have something to do with how you exist in my head.¡± ¡°Hmm?¡± ¡°Forget it.¡± Ward started down the stairs and couldn¡¯t help looking at his rough, loosely fitting pants and well-used moccasin-like shoes. ¡°Man, I hate to go around interviewing people looking like this.¡± ¡°Well, I know you want to find this killer quickly, and I think you should, too, but you have other things you could focus on until your new duds arrive.¡± ¡°Duds?¡± ¡°Don¡¯t they say that anymore?¡± Grace winked at him. ¡°I¡¯m just trying to make you more comfortable, old man.¡± ¡°There it is.¡± Ward laughed and shook his head. The common room wasn¡¯t too busy; the dinner rush wasn¡¯t for another hour or two, so he didn¡¯t feel too conspicuous speaking to his imaginary friend. ¡°What do you suggest I do with my time?¡± ¡°Let¡¯s see if you can find a local witch or some such. Wouldn¡¯t you like to learn how to use that spell page?¡± ¡°The copper sheet?¡± ¡°Yes. I¡¯ve decided it¡¯s meant to go into a grimoire.¡± ¡°It¡¯s¡­metal.¡± ¡°Very thin metal!¡± ¡°Are you all right?¡± Ward had stopped on the last step and hadn¡¯t noticed Fan coming in from the bar section of the room. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m good¡ªdialoguing with myself. Hey, do you know any local, um, people like me? You know, like a witch or wizard?¡± ¡°Well, no one very powerful¡ªnot here in Tarnish.¡± ¡°No, I don¡¯t care if they¡¯re powerful. I just want to talk to someone who knows a thing or two.¡± Ward stepped down to the floor, and Fan smiled, reaching out to grasp his arms. ¡°I didn¡¯t get a chance to thank you for that knife before you two ran off. I¡¯m awfully sorry to hear about your friend, by the way. What a horrible thing!¡± ¡°Yeah. It really is awful, considering she just lost her brother, too. Poor girl¡¯s pretty much alone.¡± ¡°Oh, that¡¯s terrible! Well, I¡¯m glad Fay¡¯s planning to help her clean the place up in the morning.¡± ¡°Oh, she¡¯s going in the morning?¡± ¡°Mmhmm.¡± Fan smiled and gestured around the inn. ¡°She wanted to bring Willard, but I couldn¡¯t have those two leaving me alone right before supper. I hope that¡¯s all right! I told her, ¡®Better in the morning, Fay, than not at all.¡¯ That¡¯s right, isn¡¯t it?¡± ¡°Yeah, definitely. I think it¡¯s great they¡¯re going to help.¡± ¡°Well, enough about that. You asked me a question. As far as magical folk go, the only one I¡¯ve ever dealt with is Maggie, out by the northern wall. She has a nice little stone house near the cemetery. People go to her to get curses removed, to ask her to look into their futures, things like that.¡± ¡°Is she for real?¡± Ward was skeptical, images of palm reading shops running through his mind. ¡°I think so! She warned me I¡¯d have a girl to look after even though I¡¯d never been able to have my own kids. Summer after she said that, Fay¡¯s mother died.¡± ¡°Huh. Well, I need to speak to her, I guess.¡± ¡°She¡¯ll see you! Just be respectful when you come to her gate. There¡¯s a little silver bell you need to ring, and then she¡¯ll call you in.¡± She paused, then asked, ¡°Will you be back for supper?¡± ¡°Got no plans otherwise.¡± Ward smiled and patted his stomach, pleased by how flat and hard it felt. ¡°Gotta keep up my strength.¡± After he¡¯d gotten a few more directions from Fan and was well on his way, meandering through the darkening streets toward the northern gate, Grace made another appearance. ¡°Are you, like, trying to set up something kinky with that aunt and her daughter?¡± ¡°Goddamn it, Grace!¡± ¡°Just checking, ¡®cause I don¡¯t know if you¡¯re blind or dumb, but they both have the hots for you.¡± ¡°That¡¯s not happening, and if that¡¯s true, maybe I should just stay away from ¡®em both in that regard.¡± Ward scowled, wishing he knew how much Grace was messing with him and how seriously he should take her. He liked to flirt and often assumed the women who flirted back were just having fun like he was, but he supposed there was some chance Fan was taking things a little more seriously than he wanted. Was he going to create some sort of rift between the two women if he pursued things with Fay? That question brought forth a related one: Why was he more attracted to Fay than Fan? Youth? He didn¡¯t think that was it; she had a different quality to her, a more carefree, ¡°say things how they really are¡± kind of energy. Fan was certainly more his actual age, but she¡¯d never have been his type, even back on Earth. Ward frowned. Would she? ¡°Dammit, Grace,¡± he growled again, annoyed that she¡¯d put his mind on that track. Regardless of anything, he wasn¡¯t sure he liked Fay or Fan enough to get mired down in any sort of romantic business; he didn¡¯t intend to stick around Tarnish that long. ¡°Sometimes the truth stings, old man.¡± She hurried to walk in front of him, nimbly turning to climb the sloping cobbles backward as she faced him. ¡°So, we¡¯re off to a cemetery? At night? With a possible killer after you? Can¡¯t imagine anything going wrong.¡± Ward sighed. She had a point. ¡°Probably should¡¯ve brought my spear.¡± This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. ¡°I was about to ask where it was.¡± ¡°Yeah, yeah.¡± Ward dismissed her with a wave, turning his attention to the street. He was reasonably sure that if he turned left at the next junction, he¡¯d end up on the main north-south road. Not many people were out; it was either early dinner time or still working time, and the air had a real nippy bite to it. Ward¡¯s breath plumed forth with his exertion, but it tasted good, that air, and smelled like Fall and wood-fired ovens. He couldn¡¯t help feeling good walking through that chilly twilit evening, his body spry and strong and his future something he couldn¡¯t even guess at. It felt like anything was possible for him, and he couldn¡¯t remember feeling that way in a long, long time¡ªnot since he was a teenager, maybe. As he reached the top of the steeply sloped, narrow street, he followed it around a corner, high-walled, brick buildings all around, and came face to face with a pair of rather surly-looking men. Ward nodded a brief greeting, then moved to the right, aiming to edge around them close to the wall. They were both decently large, close to six feet, but thin, wiry, mean, and hungry-looking. Ward didn¡¯t like how they both locked eyes on his face and stared while he scraped his shoulder against the bricks, trying to get past. He reflexively lifted his left arm, bringing his hand up high, ready to defend his face or neck. He was feeling silly and paranoid, sure he was overreacting as they continued past, but then Grace screamed, ¡°Duck!¡± and shoved him forward. Something metallic skittered against the bricks, and Ward sprang into motion, turning his stumble into a run, glancing over his shoulder to see both men after him, wielding knives. He turned, redoubling his effort to sprint away, but as he rounded another corner, he realized he¡¯d either made a wrong turn or the two men had laid a trap; the narrow alley ahead of him was blocked off by a high wall of heavy-looking wooden crates. Briefly, Ward considered trying to climb the stack, but images of the two thugs jamming their knives in his legs or back steered him away from that idea. Instead, as he ran to the end of his road, he stooped to pick up a four-foot plank of wood, whirled, and swung it in an overhead cleave, sure his pursuers were right on his heels. He couldn¡¯t have timed it more perfectly if he¡¯d tried¡ªthe plank, thin and dry though it was, cracked like a baseball bat against the first guy¡¯s forehead, right at the hairline. Ward¡¯s first pursuer fell in a heap as the wooden board splintered, sliding over the cobbles with the momentum of his chase. The second thug didn¡¯t slow, unfazed by the fate of his companion, driving forward, lunging with his knife. Ward sucked in his stomach, arching his back and almost comically thrusting his butt backward, trying to avoid the blade, and it nearly worked¡ªjust an inch or so pierced his belly, driving into his abdominal muscle. ¡°Argh!¡± Ward screamed and hammered the splinters of the board at his attacker¡¯s face. The thug threw his arm up, trying to block the attack, and Ward grabbed wildly at his wrist, trying to get control of the knife. The assailant jerked and drove the knife forward, and Ward almost let his arm slip out of his grip, finally getting control by knotting his fingers in the man¡¯s rough, woolen sleeve. ¡°Fucking drop it!¡± Ward snarled. The man locked eyes with him, desperation entering his expression as he felt Ward¡¯s strength. He jerked and stabbed, but his arm wasn¡¯t going anywhere now that Ward had a grip. That didn¡¯t stop the mugger or murderer from trying to hammer him in the side of the head with his balled-up fist. Ward got his arm up, blocking most of the blows, and by that time, his brain had caught up with everything that had happened. These two assholes had just tried to run him down and probably kill him. He felt the adrenaline in his blood, felt that dialed-in, in-the-shit focus, and he gave the guy a vicious shove, knocking him stumbling back while yanking hard on the sleeve, robbing him of his balance. As he pulled that knife-wielding arm straight, turning it so the elbow pointed up, he brought his other hand down like a hammer on the joint. The man screamed, his voice high and shrill as his elbow bent the wrong way with a sickening, wet crunch. ¡°Yes!¡± Grace cheered from off to the side. The knife clattered to the ground, and Ward stepped forward, driving his fist into the thug¡¯s gut. He coughed out his breath, and Ward yanked the damaged arm again, pulling him sideways, off balance, and then he smashed his knuckles into his head, right in front of his left ear. The thug went limp and fell at Ward¡¯s feet. ¡°Sonofabitch,¡± Ward groaned, noting the blood-soaked state of his shirt and the top edge of his draw-string trousers. He dropped the guy¡¯s arm, then stooped to feel for a pulse. He found one right away, so he straightened, groaning and pressing his left hand against his wounded stomach, then walked over to the first guy. ¡°Still alive?¡± Grace asked, and Ward grunted an affirmative sound. He didn¡¯t need to feel the second thug¡¯s pulse; mana was already starting to seep out of him, making little clouds around his body. ¡°That was fast. Um, no, this guy¡¯s dead.¡± ¡°Man, you really pounded that guy! I think it¡¯s safe to say that hemograph wasn¡¯t lying¡ªyou¡¯re getting stronger.¡± ¡°Well, they were chasing me with knives.¡± Ward groaned and leaned forward, still pressing his bloody shirt in a wad against the cut on his stomach. ¡°Shit! I¡¯m not going anywhere like this. I guess it¡¯s back to the inn.¡± ¡°First things first, Ward! Check their pockets. Don¡¯t you think you should take the, uh, alive one back with you? For questioning?¡± ¡°Yeah. Yes.¡± Ward shook his head, still pumped with adrenaline. He needed to slow down and think. ¡°Of course. I wish I had my own place or an office or something¡­¡± ¡°You could go to Haley¡¯s.¡± ¡°Ah!¡± Ward snapped his fingers. ¡°You¡¯re a sharp one, Grace.¡± He glanced at the dead thug, and when he saw the mana, he felt a weird kind of pull, almost like he might back in the day if he saw a shot of bourbon or a piece of pie. He knelt beside the body and put his hand into the nearest cloud of tiny blue dust motes, closing his eyes and slowing his breathing. Almost without trying, he found that state of mind where he wasn¡¯t seeing the world, but he could feel it around him¡ªthe weight of the buildings, the openness of the sky, the attention of the stars, and the soft, tingling, feathery touch of the mana. He breathed in and out, feeling his muscles relax and his heart slow down. ¡°Are you¡ª¡± Grace cut herself off as it started to happen. Ward could feel the mana begin to pour into him, and it came in a great rush, not as much as right after he¡¯d drunk the refinement elixir, but much more than any other time. ¡°You got his mana already?¡± Ward opened his eyes and smiled. ¡°Your eyes are blazing!¡± ¡°I got a lot, like you guessed I might. I think sleeping away my life in those catacombs did open up some room.¡± ¡°It didn¡¯t open room, knucklehead. The mana you¡¯ve gathered will continue to improve your body. At least that¡¯s what that green-eyed lady said. You should check the hemograph!¡± ¡°Lisa.¡± ¡°Huh?¡± ¡°Her name was Lisa. Are my eyes still bright?¡± ¡°No, they¡¯re fading. I don¡¯t think you¡¯ve moved to the next ¡®tier¡¯ yet. I wonder how long it will take.¡± ¡°Yeah, me too.¡± ¡°Ward, quit messing around and search that robber, then pick up this one.¡± She prodded the unconscious thug with her boot. ¡°Are you going to look at the hemograph?¡± ¡°Sheesh. Which is it? Hurry or check the hemograph? I¡¯ll do it when we get to Haley¡¯s.¡± Ward bent to pat the guy down and found a small pouch with a handful of glories, a gold chain, and a carved wooden pipe. He left the pipe, took the glories and chain, and picked up the two fallen daggers. They were decent knives, though quite different from each other. One was only about four inches long with a fat, double-edge blade, and the other was longer and pointier, slender, and almost round. It looked like it was meant to leave wide, oozing puncture wounds. Ward felt glad he¡¯d been stabbed by the shorter knife. He didn¡¯t have a backpack or satchel, so he took the dead man¡¯s shirt off and wrapped the knives in it, slinging the package over his shoulder. Then he stooped and hoisted the second thug into a fireman¡¯s carry, hurrying back down the narrow alley the way he¡¯d come. It was cold, and the sky was darkening, but the streetlights had yet to come on. He only passed a few people before he came to the first junction, and no one shouted any challenges when he hurried by, head down. At the corner, he turned right and looked at Grace. ¡°I don¡¯t think I can find Haley¡¯s house from here.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve got it. You might not remember, but we¡¯ve walked through this corner of town. Follow me.¡± Ward nodded and chased after his dapper, blond-haired devil, carrying a guy he¡¯d just beaten the piss out of and leaking blood down the front of his shirt and pants. They had good luck with citizens ignoring them for the most part, but when they came to a corner of a busy, central street, a man in a fine coat and tall silken hat stood by the lamppost, watching a boy with a long stick light the wick. He turned to Ward, and his face creased in a frown. ¡°Excuse me! Hold on a minute! What¡¯s going on there?¡± ¡°Oh, him?¡± Ward smiled and shrugged the best he could with the thug draped over his shoulders. ¡°His wife had enough of him drinking and smashed him over the head with a bottle. I¡¯m the one who got him in trouble; we were celebrating, you see? Anyway, I felt bad, so I¡¯m taking him to my place ¡®til his wife cools down.¡± ¡°Pfft.¡± The man shook his head, spitting onto the cobbles. ¡°I¡¯d think someone with your talents could find better folks to spend your time with. If I had the touch, I¡¯d not waste my life like a listless vagabond.¡± Ward felt like an idiot for several long seconds as he tried to figure out what the hell the guy was talking about, only to be rescued by Grace. ¡°He can see your eyes gleaming in the dark, dummy.¡± ¡°Oh!¡± Ward laughed and shook his head. ¡°Well, some of us aren¡¯t meant for great adventures. Have a good night, buddy.¡± ¡°Buddy?¡± His frown turned to an expression of puzzlement, but Ward had already begun to hurry past, and the man didn¡¯t call after him. ¡°Okay, Grace, I think we need to avoid busy intersections.¡± ¡°Noted! We¡¯re getting close anyway. That was the only major road we had to cross. Her neighborhood is up this hill.¡± At her words, Ward looked up from the cobbles and saw a long, narrow road leading up at a steep angle. He recognized the street, lined with narrow townhomes, each separated from the road by a little wrought-iron fence. He was already tired, his legs burning from the hurried pace through town carrying a fairly good-sized man. He stood there breathing heavily for a minute, smiling and nodding at the people who passed, then shrugged and winked at Grace. ¡°Can you get behind me and push?¡± 32. Easy Answers 32 ¨C Easy Answers Ward wasn¡¯t sure how to feel about it when he made it the rest of the way to Haley¡¯s house without another city watch member stopping him and asking what he was doing. He supposed the dim lighting, and his quick passage might explain why nobody noticed the dried blood soaking his pants and shirt. Still, he felt like trudging through town with an unconscious man flopping on his shoulders should have set off some alarm bells. Nevertheless, sweating, legs burning, and back cramping, he finally stomped up the cobbled pathway to Haley¡¯s front door and set his burden down on the deck with a thud. He knocked softly at first, but when nobody responded, he pounded with his knuckles a good deal harder. He could see through nearby windows that the house was dark and wondered if he¡¯d come too late to avoid waking the neighbor lady he¡¯d met earlier. He was about to knock a third time when a light flickered through the glass, steadily growing brighter as someone approached. The door clicked as someone unbolted it, and then he heard Haley¡¯s voice, ¡°Who¡¯s there?¡± ¡°It¡¯s Ward!¡± ¡°Now you did it,¡± Grace said. ¡°She was probably sound asleep.¡± The latch clicked, the door swung inward, and there she stood, still in her pajamas, hair disheveled. ¡°Something happen?¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± Ward pointed to the unconscious thug. ¡°This guy and his buddy jumped me. I figured they might have some relation to the guy who attacked you.¡± Haley¡¯s eyes widened, and she pulled the door fully open. As the light fell on Ward, she cried, ¡°You¡¯re hurt!¡± ¡°Where¡¯s your neighbor?¡± Ward peered past her, suddenly wondering if she should even be out of bed. ¡°She had family in town. I told her I was fine.¡± ¡°Jesus, Haley. You shouldn¡¯t be alone.¡± Ward reached down, grabbed the thug¡¯s shirt collar, and lifted him partway off the ground. He gestured for Haley to back up, then dragged him into the foyer. ¡°I didn¡¯t have any place else to take this guy without getting a lot more attention than I wanted.¡± ¡°What do you intend¡ª¡± ¡°I¡¯m going to get some answers out of him.¡± Grace followed Ward inside, smirking at the insensate man hanging from Ward¡¯s grip. ¡°He doesn¡¯t look up to answering any questions.¡± ¡°Are you? Hurt, I mean?¡± Haley backed up, making room for Ward as he dragged the man further inside. She closed the door with a solid click. ¡°Did you think about bringing him to the city watch?¡± ¡°I¡¯m hurt, but I don¡¯t think too badly. It stopped bleeding a while ago. As for the watch, nah, I think I¡¯ll handle this myself. Are you worried I¡¯ll get you into trouble?¡± ¡°Not at all. If he¡¯s connected to the man who slew my parents, I¡¯ll string his entrails along our front fence.¡± ¡°Quite an image.¡± Ward pointed to his captive. ¡°You got some rope or cord? I¡¯d like to hogtie this asshole so I can take a minute to clean up.¡± ¡°My father has¡ª¡± her words got caught in her throat, and her mouth twisted in a quick, involuntary sob. ¡°My father had some cord in his shop. I¡¯ll get it and something for your wound.¡± She looked Ward up and down. ¡°My father wouldn¡¯t mind if you borrowed a sweater and a pair of trousers. I think I can find something that will fit.¡± Ward looked at her closely, but she didn¡¯t seem upset by the idea. He figured she wouldn¡¯t have volunteered if it bothered her. ¡°If you¡¯re sure, I¡¯d appreciate it.¡± Ten minutes later, he¡¯d securely tied the man¡¯s hands behind his back and then looped the rope around his ankles, bending his legs toward his butt. His erstwhile attacker¡¯s arm was swollen and purple, and Ward didn¡¯t envy him; it was going to hurt like hell when he woke up. Leaving him face-down in the foyer, he followed Haley to the kitchen and sat at a long, wooden table while she got him some warm water and a clean towel. ¡°You should be resting, not waiting on me. I hoped to deal with that guy while you slept, none the wiser.¡± ¡°None the wiser? That¡¯s an interesting turn of phrase. Don¡¯t worry, Ward. I¡¯ve been lying in bed all day. The cut-burn mended my flesh, and the tonic strengthened me. Even my wrist is working better. I¡¯m a little sore and slow, but it¡¯s good for me to move around.¡± She set the bowl of steaming water next to him and handed him the towel, then sat on the bench a couple of feet down. Ward lifted his shirt, peering down at his stomach, fearing what he¡¯d find. The cut was deep and gaped a little when he twisted to look at it better, but only a tiny trickle of blood leaked out of the puckered flesh. ¡°Gods! You were stabbed?¡± ¡°C¡¯mon, we saw worse in the catacombs.¡± Ward began gently scrubbing the dried blood off his skin. When he looked up, Haley was gone. ¡°Where¡¯d she go?¡± He jerked his head left and right, but Grace had also wandered off. ¡°What the hell?¡± Before he could begin to worry, Haley reappeared, padding silently in her bare feet. She set a small jar on the table, and he recognized it right away¡ªit was just like the wound salve they¡¯d left behind in her pack. ¡°Ah, shit. Thanks, Haley.¡± ¡°Speaking of the catacombs, your other wounds all healed? Mine were¡ªnothing but scars left.¡± ¡°Yeah. I guess whatever magic made us sleep for more than a month didn¡¯t slow our healing.¡± Ward unscrewed the little jar and scooped some salve onto his cut. He could tell the knife didn¡¯t go through his stomach muscles; it wasn¡¯t like his insides were in any danger. ¡°I¡¯d give your captive some tonic to wake him, but we don¡¯t have any on hand.¡± ¡°Nah, let him sleep it off. Hey, how uncommon is it for thugs to jump someone in this town? You think he¡¯s related to what happened here?¡± ¡°Thugs¡­I like your descriptive language, Ward. Well, it¡¯s not common in this area. What happened to my family is something that will be talked about for months. You getting jumped by ¡®thugs¡¯ in the night while you meander through alleys? That wouldn¡¯t be very newsworthy. Unless they killed you, I suppose¡ªnot many murders in Tarnish.¡± ¡°Well, they were sure swinging those knives like they meant to kill me. I guess we won¡¯t know until I twist that guy¡¯s thumbs.¡± ¡°You¡¯re going to twist his thumbs?¡± ¡°It¡¯s a figure of speech. Let¡¯s just say I¡¯m going to get some answers out of him.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll be right back. I promised you some clothes.¡± ¡°Oh hey. If it¡¯s any trouble, I¡¯m probably going to head back to the inn soon, anyway¡ª¡± ¡°Nonsense. It¡¯s nothing.¡± Haley silently glided out of the room, her passage reminding Ward of a ghost. She was so subdued and her trauma so palpable that he kept wishing he had a card for counseling services he could hand off to her. He sat back down on the bench, annoyed at himself for bothering her. A moment later, she returned carrying a thick, olive-green sweater. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, but I underestimated the difference between you and my father. His pants aren¡¯t going to fit you. This sweater should cover most of the blood, though.¡± Ward took the offered garment, noting how Haley¡¯s hands lingered as though she didn¡¯t want to let it go. He almost pushed it back to her but knew that would probably just exacerbate things. ¡°This is perfect. Thank you.¡± It wasn¡¯t chilly in the house, but it wasn¡¯t hot, either. Ward pulled the sweater over his head and smoothed the front with his palms. ¡°How¡¯s it look?¡± ¡°Perfect. It was always too big for him, but it looks right on you.¡± ¡°Great. I love it¡ªreally soft.¡± Ward heard a muffled grunt from the direction of the foyer and stepped that way. ¡°You got a basement by any chance?¡± ¡°A wine cellar.¡± ¡°That¡¯ll be just right. I think my guest is waking up.¡± He continued through the short hallway and into the foyer. Sure enough, face crimson with the effort, Ward¡¯s captive was silently straining against his bonds. ¡°Forget it, buddy; those knots aren¡¯t coming undone.¡± He stopped straining with a gasp for air, then twisted his neck to look at Ward. ¡°Let me go.¡± ¡°Maybe. Eventually. Depends on how you answer my questions.¡± Ward had no intention of letting him go, at least not free. He might dump him off with the city watch when he was done with him, though. He looked at the hogtied man and considered hoisting him up so he could carry him down to Haley¡¯s cellar. He didn¡¯t relish the idea, so he picked up the bloody shirt wrapped around the two knives and fished one out. ¡°I¡¯m going to untie your ankles so you can walk a short distance. Don¡¯t mess around, or I¡¯ll show you how having one of these poked into you feels.¡± Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website. ¡°Eat the shit from a swine¡¯s ass, you bastard!¡± ¡°How crude!¡± Grace cried, making her usual unannounced appearance. Ward ignored her and the thug¡¯s descriptive barnyard vulgarity and sliced the thin rope he¡¯d wrapped around his ankles. He grabbed his uninjured arm and hoisted him to his feet. His captive¡¯s arms were still bound, and it must have torqued his broken elbow because he cried out, then panted and gasped in genuine pain. ¡°Easy. Just move with me, and it won¡¯t hurt so much.¡± Ward looked back to the hallway leading to the kitchen and saw Grace standing beside Haley. ¡°Cellar that way?¡± Haley¡¯s face was pale, her eyes wide, and she jumped a little when Ward spoke. He wondered what she¡¯d been thinking about and, for the second time, cursed himself for bringing his captive to her so soon after the ordeal she¡¯d been through. ¡°This way.¡± She turned and hurried toward the kitchen, leading Ward into a big, walk-in pantry with a large, wooden trapdoor on the floor. She lifted it, and Ward pushed his struggling, cussing captive toward the narrow flight of wooden steps. ¡°Down you go.¡± When the thug resisted, he gripped his shoulders and leaned close, hissing into his ear, ¡°Listen, asshole. You tried to kill me, and I won¡¯t feel a bit guilty about pushing you down some steps. Get walking, or you¡¯ll probably have a few more broken bones.¡± The man stopped pushing against him and complied, carefully stepping down with Ward close behind. Once he¡¯d gotten him down into the surprisingly large space beneath the house, he brought him over to one of the wooden support beams and used the rope he¡¯d cut from his ankles to tie his wrists to it. That done, he looked around, noting the stone block walls and floor, the many racks of dusty wine bottles, and the sturdy wooden beams holding up the floor of the house. ¡°No windows, buddy, so scream all you want, I guess.¡± ¡°What are you going to do with me?¡± Some fear had entered the thug¡¯s narrow eyes as he looked around into the dark corners of the cellar. ¡°I¡¯m going to get some answers out of you. If you cooperate, you might keep breathing. If you lie to me, I¡¯m going to start breaking more of your bones.¡± Ward glanced behind him, glad to see that only Grace sat on the wooden steps in the little pool of light that fell into the cellar from the kitchen above. Did Haley go back to bed? He hoped so. As if she could read his mind, Grace said, ¡°Haley stopped following you in the pantry. If you pay attention, you can hear her in the kitchen. I think she¡¯s cooking something.¡± ¡°What answers?¡± Ward¡¯s captive asked in a breathless grunt, trying to shift his arm into a more comfortable position. ¡°Who told you to kill me?¡± Long ago, Ward had learned that it was best to start an interview acting like you knew more than you did. If the thug assumed Ward knew he¡¯d targeted him for assassination, they might be able to skip a lot of the early back and forth. To further muddy the waters, he offered a lie, ¡°Your partner already told me you were the one who planned it, the one with the contract.¡± ¡°What? You have Gil, too?¡± ¡°Sure. He¡¯s with my partner. You saw her, right? I¡¯ve got to tell you, she¡¯s in a bad mood. You''d be dead already if it were up to her, but I said you deserved a chance to tell your side of the story. So? Was Gil telling the truth?¡± ¡°Contract? There was no contract! Foyle just gave us each a hundred crowns and said to rough you up, cripple you if we could, kill you if we couldn¡¯t.¡± Ward masked his surprise at the easy answer. He nodded, rubbing his chin. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯ve already got some friends looking for Foyle, thanks to Gil spilling the beans while you were unconscious. Still, he said you made the plan to knife me in the alley. How¡¯d you know I¡¯d be there?¡± ¡°Huh? No! We followed you! Foyle said, ¡®The big stranger with a touch of mana at the Hen¡¯s Nest.¡¯ We hung around outside, walking back and forth for hours like a couple of idiots ¡®til we saw you go in with the barmaid.¡± He grimaced and groaned for a minute, carefully shifting to try to take some weight off his injured arm. Ward frowned, and the man kept speaking, ¡°After that, Gil sat inside and listened; he heard the innkeeper telling you to head out the north gate, so we hurried ahead of you.¡± ¡°So, a hundred glories to ¡®cripple or kill¡¯ me, huh?¡± ¡°Times are hard for laborers. People are clutching their purses tight; hardly any new buildings going up. You think we like doing stuff like this? I got mouths to feed, you know!¡± Ward snorted. ¡°You won¡¯t find sympathy here, buddy. You wanna earn some mercy from me? Tell me where to find Foyle in case my friends turn up empty-handed.¡± ¡°You don¡¯t know Foyle?¡± He frowned and then shook his head, licking his lips, and Ward noticed his upper lip, forehead, and neck were covered in a thin sheen of sweat; the guy was hurting and probably going to lose consciousness soon if he didn¡¯t get some medical attention. ¡°Never mind. I forgot you¡¯re a stranger. Foyle¡¯s a bookmaker¡ªhe runs bets on dog fights, horse races, bare-knuckle matches, you name it. You can find him in the south district near the brick masons. He has an office where he sells insurance for folks going into the catacombs.¡± ¡°You don¡¯t know why he wanted me dead?¡± ¡°No, sir.¡± ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡± ¡°Arn. Could I please get some pain tonic? My arm¡¯s throbbing something fierce. I can feel it thumping with every heartbeat!¡± ¡°You¡¯ve been pretty cooperative, Arn. I¡¯ll see what I can do.¡± Ward looked around the room and spotted a small barrel near one of the wine racks. He dragged it over beside Arn. ¡°Sit on this. If you hold still, your arm will hurt less.¡± While the man stammered his thanks, Ward went upstairs to find Haley in the kitchen, frying a slice of ham in a pan over an open gas flame on the stovetop. It was such a normal thing to see in a kitchen that, for a moment, he felt a little disoriented, like he was back on Earth. He hadn¡¯t thought about home in a while, and the sensation left him standing there, stupefied, for several seconds. ¡°Well, he was cooperative, at least. Are you really going to help him with his pain? I think you should just strangle him.¡± Grace¡¯s ruthless commentary snapped Ward out of it, and he spun on her. ¡°I don¡¯t work that way, and you should know it by now.¡± Before Grace could respond, Haley said, still looking down at her frying ham, ¡°Are you talking to Grace?¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± ¡°What¡¯re you arguing about?¡± ¡°Yes, Ward, tell her what we¡¯re arguing about.¡± Grace moved over and hopped on the table, resting her bare feet on the bench. ¡°Grace thinks I should strangle that guy and be done with him. I¡¯m planning to drop him off with the city watch.¡± ¡°He¡¯s not the one who attacked my family, so I don¡¯t care.¡± Haley shrugged. ¡°Do you want some ham?¡± Ward remembered he¡¯d promised Fan to return to the inn for dinner. He supposed he wasn¡¯t late yet, but he probably should get going soon. ¡°No. Thank you anyway. Um, I don¡¯t want to let this guy go yet because he might tip off the next piece of the puzzle¡ªsome guy named Foyle.¡± ¡°Foyle is behind this?¡± Haley spun. ¡°I¡¯ve seen his offices before, heard people talk about him. He runs bets for the derbies.¡± ¡°More than that, from what I gather. Our little friend down there is talkative, hoping for some pain tonic. Do you care if I keep him here until I can talk to Foyle?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t mind, but you should proceed with caution. Foyle will have some muscle. I¡¯d be surprised if he doesn¡¯t have a sorcerer on staff.¡± Images of the dueling monks flashed through Ward¡¯s mind. ¡°Like a strong one? The kind that can shoot beams of fire?¡± ¡°Oh, I doubt it. Someone with enhanced strength and speed, though. Someone like you. If not, he definitely has a few Gopah practitioners. It was at the dojo that I learned his name.¡± She twisted a brass knob, stifling the flow of gas to her burner, and turned to him. ¡°Wait a day, and I¡¯ll come with you. I just need this wrist to mend. In the morning, I¡¯ll visit an alchemist for some bone mend cream and a pain tonic for your prisoner. I¡¯ll secure him with something stronger, too, once he¡¯s on the mend.¡± Ward scratched at the stubble on his jawline and sat down next to Grace¡¯s feet, thankful that the devil hadn¡¯t been trying to talk to him at the same time as Haley. ¡°I think that¡¯s a good plan. Give me a day to get some equipment. Get yourself healed up, and then we¡¯ll visit Foyle together.¡± ¡°I want justice for my parents, and if that man hired the one who killed them, I don¡¯t plan to be gentle.¡± Ward looked into her eyes. They were very dark in the dim kitchen light. Slowly, he nodded. ¡°I don¡¯t blame you. Just let me get some answers out of him before you break his neck.¡± The words felt strange yet comfortable coming from his lips and almost sent him into a disoriented spiral. When had he gone from trying to enforce laws to seeking vigilante justice? Was it the ineffectual-seeming city watch? Was it his concern for Haley? He¡¯d never had to deal with a crime so personal before¡ª Haley spoke, stopping his ruminations in their tracks. ¡°Of course. I want to confirm that Nevkin started this. If he didn¡¯t, I¡¯d like to know who.¡± ¡°Okay, it¡¯s a deal. You sure you¡¯re good if I head back to the inn for now?¡± She picked up the thick slice of ham from her cast iron pan and bit a chunk out of it, chewing noisily. As she swallowed, she nodded. ¡°I¡¯ll be fine. I slept most of the day, so I doubt I¡¯ll sleep more tonight. There¡¯s an alchemist nearby, and he¡¯s a family friend. He¡¯ll be up with the dawn.¡± Ward stood and gestured to the sweater he was wearing. ¡°It¡¯s okay if I wear this for now?¡± ¡°Keep it. I¡¯ll have to do something with all of my father¡¯s things eventually.¡± Her voice was steady and carried a much different tone than earlier. She sounded almost angry, and Ward knew it was because she was contemplating what they¡¯d spoken about¡ªfinding Foyle and getting some answers. ¡°Listen, Haley.¡± He walked closer and reached out, gently grasping her shoulder. ¡°Promise me you aren¡¯t going to do anything without me.¡± Her eyes widened, and her somber face brightened a little as she smiled. ¡°I¡¯m just sore, angry, and sad. I¡¯m not stupid. I¡¯ll wait, and we¡¯ll go together.¡± ¡°Right. Okay, then. I¡¯ll come by tomorrow sometime after my new clothes are delivered¡ª¡± Haley interrupted him, shaking her head. ¡°I have to see a tailor in that part of town. Why don¡¯t I stop by the inn? I won¡¯t leave until I¡¯ve secured that man downstairs with some chains.¡± ¡°Okay. Deal. See you tomorrow at the inn sometime. If I¡¯m not there, wait for me; I have a few errands to run.¡± Ward gave her shoulder one more squeeze, then, with her following behind, he walked to the front door and out into the cold night air. He turned and offered her a final smile. ¡°Nite.¡± ¡°Nite, Ward.¡± She smiled half-heartedly and clicked the door shut. ¡°Think she¡¯s going to be all right?¡± Grace asked. ¡°I guess.¡± Ward turned and started crunching over the gravel to the cobbled path. ¡°She lost her parents less than a day ago¡ªalmost died, herself.¡± The more he thought about it, the crazier it seemed that she was even up and about. ¡°She¡¯s a tough chick, you know that?¡± ¡°Chick, Ward? Really? How about a tough person? It¡¯s not like a man would cope better¡ª¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t mean that! Shit, cut me a little slack, would ya?¡± ¡°I am cutting you some slack! I didn¡¯t hit you, did I?¡± Grace giggled and winked, and Ward realized she was just teasing. He laughed and cracked his knuckles, walking briskly through the chilly, dimly lit streets. He was hungry but also excited; it felt like he was on a case with no lieutenant to answer to. He was looking forward to meeting this Foyle character and seeing Haley get some justice. 33. A Brisk Morning Walk 33 ¨C A Brisk Morning Walk Ward, as usual, found himself alone in Fay and Fan¡¯s room when he woke the next day. He was an early riser, but those two gave new meaning to the concept. The night before, he¡¯d regaled the two women with the tale of his encounter with the thugs while eating a delicious, hearty dinner. Fan had cooked up a casserole filled with bits of sausage, sweet potato, cabbage, and other things Ward hadn¡¯t identified, all seasoned to perfection. With a full belly and exhausted from the day''s ordeals, he''d slept early and deeply. Grace was ready to pounce when she saw his eyes open. ¡°You never used the hemograph last night. Let¡¯s see what it says.¡± ¡°Remember when I found it, and you told me not to mess around with it? Didn¡¯t you call it ¡®junk¡¯ or something?¡± Grace held a hand over her eyes and looked down, muttering, ¡°You know why.¡± ¡°Oh, that¡¯s right. You didn¡¯t want me to notice how you took all my anima.¡± Ward sighed and sat up on the edge of the bed, pulling his pack close. He dug out the device and, after pricking his finger, dropped some blood into the sensor. A few seconds later, he was looking at some interesting new numbers:
Bloodline: Awakened Human (ah)
Accumulated Mana: 172
Mana Well: Copper + 21.22
Mana Sensitivity: Iron
Mana Pathways: Copper
Vessel Capacity: Copper
Vessel Durability: ah + 44.50
Vessel Strength: ah + 33.08
Vessel Speed: ah + 29.13
Longevity remaining: ~64.12%
Anima: NIL
¡°This thing is confusing as hell,¡± Ward sighed. ¡°I need a damn manual. I need a notebook to write my old values in, but if I remember correctly, I had more than two hundred accumulated mana before, right? Then I slept for weeks, and now I¡¯ve gained, after last night, a hundred and seventy-two. It doesn¡¯t seem like the numbers after the plus signs equal the amount of accumulated mana I had.¡± Grace made a humming sound as she stared at the numbers. ¡°It seems to me that now that you are an ¡®awakened human,¡¯ it takes more mana to increase those values.¡± She shrugged. ¡°As you said, we need more information. Still, it¡¯s clear that you¡¯re progressing!¡± Ward smirked, stuffing the device back into his pack. ¡°Yes, Grace. I¡¯m perfecting my ¡®vessel¡¯ for your nefarious plans.¡± She didn¡¯t deign to answer, and Ward prepared for the day. As he descended to the common room, he found Fay and Willard gathering some buckets, rags, and bottles of soap oil. ¡°Up already?¡± Fay smiled and winked at him. ¡°Hope we didn¡¯t wake you when we came to work.¡± ¡°Nah, didn¡¯t hear a thing. Still planning to head over to Haley¡¯s, huh? That¡¯s really great, Fay.¡± Ward turned to Willard and tried to make eye contact, but the big man refused to look him in the face. Ward had hardly ever heard him speak. Still, he reached up and clapped the fellow on the shoulder. ¡°Thanks for all your help, Willard. I hear I owe you for the clothes I¡¯ve been wearing.¡± Ward still had on the rough-spun shirt and pants, blood-stained and torn though they were. Luckily, the sweater Haley had given him hid most of the damage. ¡°Old.¡± Willard shrugged, then hoisted a bucket full of rags and started for the door. Fay laughed. ¡°I guess we¡¯re leaving. Still going to Maggie¡¯s?¡± ¡°Yeah, I want to ask her about a thing or two.¡± ¡°Well, don¡¯t buy any love potions.¡± Fay laughed again, then hurried after Willard, lugging a sack of clinking bottles. ¡°Cute.¡± Grace slapped him on the shoulder, but Ward wasn¡¯t startled; he¡¯d been expecting her. ¡°You¡¯re getting predictable.¡± He went to the bar and sat down, smiling when Fan came out of the kitchen. ¡°I don¡¯t smell bacon,¡± he said by way of greeting. ¡°Oh? Is that the only way to bring you to the counter? Well, we¡¯re low on meat; farmer Rhett¡¯s late with his delivery. How about some porridge? I¡¯ll put some sliced berries on top, drizzle it with honey and cream¡ª¡± ¡°Sold!¡± Ward laughed. ¡°Something warm to drink, too?¡± ¡°On its way!¡± Fan shook her head, chuckling, as she hurried back toward the kitchen. ¡°You must be racking up quite a bill here. You haven¡¯t paid them yet since you¡¯ve come out of the catacombs, have you?¡± ¡°No, Grace, but don¡¯t worry¡ªI will.¡± Before he could let the idea slip his mind, Ward dug two fifty-glory coins out of the pouch he¡¯d tied to his shoulder harness and slapped them on the counter. When Fay returned with his breakfast, he slid them toward her. ¡°So you don¡¯t get nervous about all the food I¡¯m eating.¡± ¡°I wasn¡¯t nervous!¡± She leaned on the counter, watching him take a bite of the porridge. However, he didn¡¯t miss it as she slid the two coins toward herself and palmed them. Ward swallowed a large spoonful, just the right temperature thanks to the cream she¡¯d poured on top. ¡°Delicious.¡± Fan winked and bustled off to talk to some other patrons sitting near the fireplace. Ward finished his meal and was getting ready to head out when he heard the door open and felt a cold draft. A moment later, several sets of boots clomping on the hardwoods prompted him to turn to see who¡¯d come into the inn. Three men in city guard uniforms stood there, and, pushing his way through, was Guard Captain Figran. He scanned the room, then the bar area, and when his eyes settled on Ward, his thin lips pressed into a hard smile as he stomped toward him. Ward straightened and swiveled some more atop his stool so he faced the captain directly. ¡°Captain.¡± ¡°Ah, it¡¯s good that you¡¯re still here, Mr. Dyer. I¡¯ve come to see you.¡± ¡°Oh?¡± ¡°Yes. You see, guard Boyle over there, he had an eventful patrol in the wee hours¡ªcame upon a body in an alley not too far from here. After he called the undertaker and went back to the guard house for shift change, he heard the tale from one of the other guards that a man had been to this very inn last night, carrying on about how he¡¯d been assaulted in that area.¡± The captain moved to the stool next to Ward, lifted the long tails of his uniform jacket, and sat down. His eyes never left Ward¡¯s face as he said, ¡°I don¡¯t suppose you¡¯re familiar with the tale?¡± ¡°Uh-oh!¡± Grace said, suddenly standing beside the captain. She leaned close to him and made an exaggerated sniffing sound. ¡°Smells like trouble!¡± Ward managed to keep his face from reacting to the captain¡¯s question and Grace¡¯s antics. He cleared his throat and scratched his chin. The truth was, he¡¯d been so preoccupied with learning what the surviving thug knew, then getting back to the inn, that he¡¯d failed to consider how it might look to the guards when someone came upon the dead thug¡¯s body. ¡°Sure, I was attacked last night. One of the bastards knifed me, too. I managed to fight my way free, but they both seemed plenty alive as I ran off. ¡°Two assailants, you say?¡± ¡°That¡¯s right.¡± Ward frowned and tried to turn the tables a little. ¡°I have to say, I¡¯m happy to see you here. I was beginning to wonder if the city watch cared at all. I woke up early today, intending to head down to your office to file a report. I wanted to know why no one came when I cried out for help. I wanted to complain about how I had to run through several alleys and dark, unlit streets before I got away, and, in all that time, I never laid eyes on a patrol.¡± This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. The captain frowned, but if Ward had hoped his accusatory statement might throw him off, he was disappointed. ¡°So you didn¡¯t hit one of the victims hard enough to crack his skull?¡± ¡°Victim? Did you hear what I said? The two ambushed me with knives. While running, I picked up a board and swung it around. That¡¯s how I got away initially. I might¡¯ve hit one of ¡®em in the head, but it sure seemed they were both still chasing me after that.¡± In his head, Ward was wondering if he should be making any sort of statement at all. He was claiming self-defense here. Was that even a thing in this city? Were there lawyers in this world? Did he have any sort of right not to incriminate himself? The captain¡¯s tone changed, and he spoke with an almost friendly air, leaning close and smiling, ¡°Well, perhaps you can imagine yourself in my position for a moment. Here¡¯s what I know: You¡¯re a stranger in this town. A friend you made was assaulted in her home. Now you¡¯re wandering the streets at night, and local toughs are coming up dead or missing. Are you sure you¡¯re not out trying to find justice for young Haley? I think quite a few of us might sympathize if that were the case.¡± Ward could see a trap when it was in front of him. The old ¡°friendly cop wants to let you know he¡¯d do the same thing in your shoes¡± routine. ¡°Well, I¡¯d sure like to know who attacked Haley, but those guys came at me, Captain. I didn¡¯t even get a look at their faces, let alone question them to see if they might be involved. Are we even sure the body your guy found was one of the men who attacked me? As I said, last I saw, my attackers were still on their feet. Hell, maybe they started fighting with one another after I got away.¡± For once, Ward was glad of the lack of forensic capability in the steam-age city. ¡°Hmm. Well, my guards will collect statements and examine the scene in the light of day, so keep yourself available, won¡¯t you? As of today, you¡¯re under suspicion.¡± The statement was vague enough to be irritating to Ward, but he didn¡¯t let it show. ¡°Sure. I¡¯m not leaving town today.¡± The captain turned to his three guardsmen. ¡°Go ahead¡ªback to work or off to bed.¡± The three saluted and stomped out, and then the captain turned to regard Fan, who¡¯d quietly come out of the kitchen and had been listening in. ¡°Well, innkeeper. Does your guest¡¯s statement measure up to the tale he spun last night?¡± ¡°Sounds right to me, Captain. Can I get you some breakfast?¡± The captain made a satisfied sound, nodding, and Ward, irritated by the accusatory nature of their conversation, turned back to his porridge and scooped out the last bite. He was ready to get out in the brisk air to blow off some steam. As he pushed his bowl away and stood up, the captain lifted one bushy, gray eyebrow and, smoothing his well-groomed beard to a point at his chin, said, ¡°Remember what I said. Keep yourself available.¡± Ward grunted an affirmative sound and left the inn before someone else distracted him. He retraced his steps from the night before toward the northern gate. It was barely light out; the air was cold, and he had to stuff his hands in his armpits to keep his fingers from going numb. A thin sheen of frost lined the cobbles, and he almost slipped a couple of times when he walked through shadowy alleys where the sun hadn¡¯t yet touched the stones. Still, the walk was more pleasant than the night before¡ªno would-be assassins jumped him in the alley, and soon, he found himself approaching the gates in the high, lime-plastered city wall. A single guard was on duty, and he huddled under a blanket atop a stool, a steaming mug of something held between his hands. When Ward walked through, looking up at the high stone ceiling, the man said, ¡°Mornin¡¯.¡± ¡°Morning.¡± Ward nodded to him, then paused and gestured toward the empty gravel road beyond the gates. ¡°This the right way to the cemetery? I¡¯m looking for a woman named Maggie.¡± ¡°Ayup. Can¡¯t miss it. Just a half mile down the road, and you¡¯ll see the fence and the headstones beyond. Her place is down the path off to the right.¡± He eyed Ward carefully for a moment and sipped his drink. When Ward nodded and started walking, he said, ¡°Bit chilly. Don¡¯t have a coat? You¡¯re that stranger involved in the murders, that right? Thought you weren¡¯t supposed to leave town.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not. Just going to see Maggie, then I¡¯ll be back.¡± Ward turned, picking up the pace, for some reason more annoyed that the man would question his preparedness for the weather than his mention of him not leaving town. He supposed his regard for the city watch was at a baseline level of something like contempt. ¡°See that you do,¡± the guard called after him. Grace chimed in, echoing Ward¡¯s thoughts, ¡°What¡¯s with people in authority positions acting like jerks?¡± He looked at her and sighed. ¡°I don¡¯t know. We¡¯re probably being a little hard on them. I am a stranger, after all. They¡¯ve had to deal with more deaths than they¡¯re used to, I guess.¡± Ward saw the stone and wrought-iron fence and, beyond it, the headstones the guard had promised, so he turned off the road, walking along a dirt and gravel path. He could see a thatch-roofed dwelling about a hundred yards ahead, just past the corner of the cemetery lot. With no other structures in sight, he figured it had to be Maggie¡¯s house. In the gray light of a slightly overcast dawn, he paused to look over the low stone wall at the cemetery beyond. It looked like it went on for several acres, and many of the hundreds of headstones he could see were blackened and cracked. ¡°Must have been here before the fire passed through.¡± Grace sat atop a nearby stone fencepost, and if Ward hadn¡¯t just been looking that way and seen no sign of her, he could almost imagine she¡¯d been there all along. ¡°I was wondering about that. Have you noticed that the buildings in Tarnish are mostly stone at the ground level and lime-washed? I wonder if the people living in this little city have been here since before the fire passed through or if they just moved in and rebuilt.¡± ¡°It¡¯s a strange world. The people in Tarnish sure seem like they own the place. I bet they have shelters or something. Don¡¯t you think people in population centers like this would have caves or basements or something they run to when the fire comes near?¡± Grace pursed her lips, contemplating. ¡°I suppose. Knowing people, though, they¡¯d forget after fifty years or so, and by the time fire comes ¡®round again, they¡¯d panic and do something stupid.¡± ¡°Uh-huh.¡± Ward started walking again, angling for the smaller stone wall around the thatched cabin. He could see the rusted iron gate hanging crookedly near the center and strolled toward it, eyes searching for the silver bell he was supposed to ring. When he was just a few steps away, he saw, dangling between two iron rods, a tiny bell hanging from a strand of spun wire. He stepped up to it and gave it a flick with his forefinger, and a melodic, high-pitched ding-ding rewarded his efforts. Ward watched the front door of the little cabin, noting the woodsmoke in the air drifting up from a round, brick chimney. After a few seconds, Grace broke the tension, ¡°Kind of a creepy place for a house.¡± ¡°Hush, you don¡¯t know if this lady will be able to see or hear you, right?¡± His words had the desired effect¡ªGrace vanished from sight. Ward was just getting ready to flick the bell again when the door opened with a creak, and a small round face peered out. Ward thought it must be a child looking at him, but the long, tangled gray hair made that improbable. Even so, the woman must have only stood four feet tall as she called out, in a reedy voice, ¡°Come in.¡± ¡°Hello!¡± Ward pushed the gate open and, careful to close it behind himself, walked up the steppingstone path to the door. ¡°Hello, stranger. Hurry, I¡¯m letting all the warmth out!¡± Ward hustled up to the door and, ducking low, stepped through as she pulled it wide. The inside of the hut had a ceiling that might have accommodated Ward comfortably, but there were long, crisscrossing lines of drying herbs hanging where his head wanted to be, and he had to keep hunched low as he followed the little woman inside. She wore a woolen knitted shawl patterned with circles and squares of various colors but predominantly yellow. When she sat at the little wooden kitchen table and motioned for Ward to sit across from her, he saw she¡¯d been working on a project, grinding a root into a brilliant indigo powder. ¡°I smell blood on you, stranger. Did you have trouble on your way to see me?¡± Ward grunted, shifting the chair away from the table to fit more comfortably in the small space. ¡°None this morning, no. I¡¯m sorry I didn¡¯t have cleaner clothes to wear; I¡¯ve had to order new ones from a tailor.¡± When she smiled and looked up, Ward saw what everyone must be noticing about him; her eyes shone with a pale white light, making the blue and green irises stand out like little sparkling jewels above her flushed, rosy cheeks. She had nice teeth for a woman who seemed to be coming up on a hundred years old, and when she spoke, her words were clear and sharp, even though the voice that delivered them was breathy and soft, ¡°Well? What brings you to Maggie?¡± ¡°Um, my name¡¯s Ward and I¡¯m not from around here, as you may have guessed.¡± ¡°How would I have done that?¡± Ward frowned and scratched his head. ¡°I guess I¡¯m not sure. Everyone in town seems to realize it right away.¡± ¡°Mmhmm, well, Maggie doesn¡¯t know everyone like she used to. What is it? Some sort of pestilence of the genitals?¡± Ward almost choked at the old woman¡¯s words, and coughing, choking back a laugh, he shook his head. ¡°No, nothing like that. When I said I wasn¡¯t from around here, I meant from this world. I recently found myself transported here from a place with very little mana, and I¡¯m trying to learn more about it.¡± ¡°Oh? You wish to be my ¡®prentice? Bit large for my taste. Large and male. You¡¯d have to build your own sleeping quarters; I won¡¯t have you taking up all the space in here.¡± ¡°No, no, that¡¯s not¡­that¡¯s not what I was trying to do. Here, let me show you.¡± Ward reached under his shirt to where he¡¯d tucked the copper plate, held in place against his chest by the strap of his shoulder holster. ¡°I received this in the catacombs, and I was hoping you could help me figure it out.¡± That got the diminutive woman¡¯s attention. She set down the little jar she¡¯d been uncapping and held out her hand. ¡°Let me see that!¡± Something in Ward made him cautious, and he held it back, lowering it to his lap. ¡°Let¡¯s make an agreement first.¡± ¡°Oho! Clever one, aren¡¯t you? I thought you were new to our ways!¡± She winked one of those softly glowing blue eyes at him. ¡°Well, I¡¯ve learned enough to know the words"¡ªWard stressed the word¡ª"are valuable. If I show you this, won¡¯t you be receiving something valuable?¡± ¡°Depends. Are you going to let me copy it down? I doubt I¡¯ll hold it,¡± she tapped the side of her head, ¡°long enough to write it after you¡¯ve gone.¡± For once, Ward wished Grace wasn¡¯t hiding; he¡¯d have liked her more cutthroat business sense. He shrugged. ¡°What do you suggest?¡± ¡°I suggest you let me see that page, and if it¡¯s what I think it is, I¡¯ll try to help you understand it. In exchange, you let me copy it.¡± Ward thought about her offer. She was old, and he wondered how someone could go through a long life in a world like this one without amassing a bunch of words of power. Were they really that tightly guarded? If so, he would be giving her a lot with very questionable gains promised in exchange. Nevertheless, she was friendly and seemed to know a thing or two. More importantly, Ward didn¡¯t have a lot of other options. Shaking his head and clicking his tongue like she was driving a hard bargain, he lifted the thin copper sheet and laid it on the table before himself. ¡°All right, Maggie. Teach me some magic.¡± 34. Clarity 34 ¨C Clarity Maggie¡¯s bright eyes widened, and a smile lifted her plump oval cheeks. ¡°May I copy it before we begin?¡± Ward rested a heavy hand on the copper sheet. ¡°Let¡¯s talk a bit first.¡± ¡°Fair enough, wanderer. Tell me, what can old Maggie teach you today?¡± ¡°Let¡¯s start with why the words are so hard to keep,¡± Ward tapped his forehead, ¡°up here.¡± ¡°They¡¯re elusive by nature. Hard to understand. They¡¯re combinations of sounds that affect the mana, but that very connection to the essence makes them hard to grasp. You have to learn the words with more than just your memory; you have to learn them with your body and spirit. You can plant them more firmly in your mind that way, but even so, if you use them, it¡¯s like a release. The flow of the mana will wash away some of those connections you made.¡± ¡°So, every time you use one of the words or, I guess, a set of words, you¡¯d have to study them again?¡± Maggie nodded, pushing her mortar and pestle to the side. ¡°A master might repeat the same spell a few times before the connections are gone, but then she¡¯d have to study her notes again.¡± She stood and walked through the cramped space, pushing aside a chair hung with quilts to make way as she started shuffling about in her kitchen. ¡°I¡¯ll make us some hot bitters.¡± ¡°Bitters?¡± ¡°Oh, just some herbs and roots steeped in hot water. Sort of a tea, but I have a few ingredients most people don¡¯t. They¡¯re a little bitter, but not when I¡¯m done adding the honey! Did you see my hives out back?¡± ¡°No, I didn¡¯t notice¡ª¡± ¡°No matter.¡± She fiddled with something on her little, round copper range, and flames flickered to life atop it. ¡°Now, while this water¡¯s warming, tell me how you have more mana than I but don¡¯t know a thing about the words.¡± Ward sighed and leaned back in the wooden chair. When it creaked alarmingly, he quickly straightened and covered his embarrassment with a cough. ¡°Ahem, well, the world I came from has very little mana. People there just don¡¯t know about it. When I arrived here, I was amazed to find clouds of it coming from the bodies of a pair of scavengers I had to fight off.¡± ¡°And you managed to harvest some of it all on your own? You must be quite gifted. Tell me, what does it look like?¡± ¡°You don¡¯t know?¡± ¡°No. I can feel it, like a tickle on my palm, but I struggle to pull any in. This,¡± she gestured to her eyes, ¡°is the result of decades of trying. Nonetheless, you won¡¯t hear me complain; I¡¯ve outlived everyone I grew up with and some of my children, too.¡± She chuckled, but it was a rueful, almost bitter sound. ¡°It¡¯s beautiful. Imagine motes of dust like you might see in a sunbeam, but blue and flickering¡ªswirling in little clouds.¡± Ward heard the wonder in his voice and had to stop speaking lest he get too emotional; he hadn¡¯t realized how profoundly his experiences with the mana had affected him. ¡°So, you¡¯re a natural. That¡¯s lucky for you, stranger.¡± ¡°I¡¯m sorry. Haven¡¯t I introduced myself¡ª¡± ¡°Oh, you have, Ward. Forgive this old woman; I have my habits when it comes to speaking.¡± ¡°No worries.¡± ¡°So, you can see it, you can gather it. You seem to be holding more than most humans your age might. Now, you seek some understanding. Am I correct in my summation?¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± ¡°Have you ever used a word?¡± She gestured to the sheet still resting under Ward¡¯s palm. ¡°That one or any other?¡± ¡°I did. I was in the catacombs when¡ª¡± ¡°Aha! I should¡¯ve guessed. Is that where you got your shine? Your ability to contain so much so early in your life? Did you find a refinement?¡± Ward didn¡¯t see any point in lying about it, so he shrugged. ¡°Yeah.¡± ¡°Things begin to make more sense!¡± She chuckled to herself as she turned to lift her now-steaming kettle from the stove, pouring the hot water into a stoneware pitcher. Almost immediately, Ward could smell whatever she had in the pitcher, activated by the hot water. The scents were heady¡ªlike herbs and flowers and things that tickled his memories but only vaguely. ¡°Go on. You were telling me about a time you used the words?¡± ¡°Right. I was betrayed. Well, a friend and I both were, and the fellow who betrayed us used some words to turn into smoke and escape from a room, leaving me and my friend to battle with some monsters. We killed the monsters, but she was paralyzed, and I couldn¡¯t get to her. When our former companion betrayed us and cast his spell, I heard the words, and, somehow, I used them again to get to my injured friend.¡± ¡°Truly? How much time had passed?¡± ¡°A couple of minutes.¡± Ward shrugged. The truth was, he hadn¡¯t remembered them; Grace had. Wasn¡¯t that right? The whole memory was a little foggy to him. ¡°And you¡¯d never studied them?¡± ¡°Never.¡± ¡°So, did he disappear and reappear in the new location, or did you see the smoke traverse the space between?¡± ¡°I saw it flow out.¡± ¡°Either way, it¡¯s a potent spell. I¡¯m surprised the words didn¡¯t kill you.¡± ¡°I think they would have; I had a healing potion I won earlier in the catacombs.¡± ¡°Aha!¡± Maggie leaned against her wooden counter, which Ward was just starting to realize was about a foot shorter than a standard kitchen counter. She stroked her smooth, plump chin, then reached up to twirl some of her long, disheveled gray hair around her finger. After a minute, she said, ¡°Mana isn¡¯t inert. It is, in a way, alive. I¡¯ve read that need, desperation, heightened emotion, and other such qualities can affect a spell, making it work when normally the caster would¡¯ve failed. You must have been very focused and very desperate to get to your friend. Otherwise, I don¡¯t know how you would have made that spell work without prior study or meditation on the forms.¡± ¡°Like I said, I think it almost killed me.¡± Ward watched as Maggie lifted her heavy pitcher and poured it over a handheld strainer into two mugs. She lifted a clay pot, and Ward saw her scoop a generous amount of honey into each mug, stirring it well. She returned to the table and pushed a green and orange glazed pottery mug toward him. ¡°That¡¯s my favorite mug; my granddaughter and I made it while she visited for Eldenhearth a few years back.¡± Ward wanted to ask what Eldenhearth was but didn¡¯t want to get further sidetracked. He lifted the mug, sniffed the concoction within, and, his tastebuds intrigued by the cloying, spicy scent, gave it a sip. ¡°Hmm! I like it! It¡¯s more interesting than tea, that¡¯s for sure.¡± While Maggie smiled, nodded, and sipped her own mug, he held the warm cup between his hands and waited for her to speak. ¡°All right, stranger.¡± She grinned around her mug and shook her head. ¡°Ward. Show me this page you won in the catacombs.¡± Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! He nodded and pushed the copper sheet across the table toward her. She turned it and stared for a long while. When she looked up, her eyes were bright with interest. ¡°I recognize that first word. Shrovak¡­¡± When Ward flinched and his eyes bulged out, she laughed. ¡°Relax, child. The words won¡¯t do anything without focused intention, especially for someone like me who¡¯s not studied them at all.¡± ¡°Ah! That¡¯s good. I was afraid even saying them by accident would make blood spray out of my ears or something.¡± Maggie sipped her drink, swallowing with a soft sigh. ¡°As I was saying, I know that word. It¡¯s used in spells to mean something like ¡®show.¡¯ The second word isn¡¯t familiar to me, and, well, with the words of power, you need to know that they have different meanings based on connotation, so that second word is important. Shrovak could mean ¡®show¡¯ or ¡®tell¡¯ or ¡®reveal¡¯ or ¡®uncover¡¯ or a dozen other subtly different things. The good news is that we can learn what the second word means by performing these meditative poses, committing the words to memory, and experimenting. It¡¯s all a matter of whether we can stomach the risk.¡± ¡°Risk?¡± ¡°Well, neither you nor I are exactly evolved sorcerers.¡± ¡°Evolved?¡± Ward was starting to feel like an idiot, repeating everything back to her, not understanding hardly anything. ¡°Didn¡¯t I mention earlier that you were holding a lot of mana for a young human? So, when I say evolved, I mean people from other species with more exposure throughout their ancestry.¡± ¡°But you¡¯re from here, right? You call yourself human, which is comforting, but that¡¯s a rabbit hole I¡¯ll go down another day. The point is this place has much more mana than Earth; why aren¡¯t the locals, you included, more ¡®evolved¡¯ for mana?¡± ¡°Ah, I see your confusion. Humans are a young species, relatively speaking, and, no, we didn¡¯t originate in this system. We came to Vainglory in great numbers, just as we¡¯ve spread to many worlds, but,¡± she smiled and shrugged, ¡°I¡¯ve no idea where we originated. That,¡± she laughed, ¡°was thankfully long before my time.¡± Ward nodded. He¡¯d assumed something similar; it didn¡¯t make sense that humanity evolved so similarly on various worlds. They had to have an origin in common, and, as far as he knew, it could be Earth. ¡°Or,¡± he finished his thought aloud, ¡°the people from my world, my ancestors, could have come from another world. All we have are bones and cave paintings to go on.¡± ¡°Hmm, I see you¡¯re thinking aloud. I¡¯ll pose another question for you: Do you wonder how I can recognize this word,¡± she tapped the copper sheet, ¡°if the words are fleeting?¡± ¡°I figured you must have a spell that uses that word and that you¡¯ve recently memorized it.¡± ¡°Ah! Oh, you¡¯re sharper than you seem.¡± Ward laughed. ¡°Should I be offended?¡± ¡°No, no. I¡¯m just old and speak my mind too bluntly. So, are you understanding things better?¡± She set her cup down and turned the copper sheet sideways so Ward could see it more easily as she pointed. ¡°I¡¯m not sure what all those dotted lines are. The little symbols lined up under the words. My friend said it seemed similar to her martial arts forms¡ª¡± ¡°Gopah!¡± Maggie clapped her hands, nodding. ¡°Indeed! The masters of the fire fist meditate using forms similar to these. It¡¯s how they learn to coax the latent mana into their styles.¡± ¡°Right! I figured it must have something to do with mana. When I saw my friend''s fists radiating heat and exploding on the enemies she fought.¡± ¡°Just so. Now, look. Follow my finger.¡± She gestured to the first of the symbols. ¡°These long, dashed lines are meant to represent your limbs. The dots beneath give you an idea of how long you should hold that form while you meditate; they each represent ten heartbeats.¡± ¡°So, I bend my arms and legs like this, then meditate for, let¡¯s see,¡± Ward did the math in his head, ¡°thirty heartbeats before moving to the next form?¡± ¡°Exactly. The tricky part is knowing what to meditate on.¡± Ward sipped his drink, tilting his cup so the thick, honey-sweet sludge at the bottom rolled into his mouth. ¡°God, that¡¯s good. Um, I was hoping you might help with that part. I¡¯m not any kind of expert when it comes to meditation.¡± Maggie smiled, took his mug, and set it aside. ¡°To use the words of power correctly and safely, you must internalize them. There¡¯s a reason the forms are timed in heartbeats¡ªone of the easiest ways to begin to grasp the complexity of the words is to focus on them while you quiet your mind and body to the point where you can feel your heartbeats. ¡°When I learned my first word, my grandmother told me to be still until the only thing I could hear was my heart. Once I accomplished that¡ªno small feat for a nine-year-old girl¡ªshe gave me the word, and while I listened to my heart, I repeated it in my head over and over. It took time, but eventually, I had clarity; I felt the word¡¯s true meaning in the context of the forms my grandmother taught me.¡± ¡°These?¡± Ward touched the five different symbols under the words. ¡°Yes, though mine were stick figures drawn on an old sheet of vellum, and my gran helped me to get them right.¡± She smiled and reached over the table to clasp the knuckles of Ward¡¯s left hand. ¡°You¡¯ll get it. You¡¯re sharp, and I¡¯m sure you just need to spend some time alone with the words. Have I taught you enough? May I copy the sheet?¡± Ward started to lean back, heard the creaking of the chair¡¯s joints, and stopped himself again. He settled for folding his arms and sighing happily. ¡°Yeah. I¡¯d say you¡¯ve made things a lot clearer for me. You can copy it, but can I ask you a few questions while you work?¡± ¡°Of course!¡± Maggie hopped out of her seat, surprisingly spry for someone so old, and hurried over to a dark, hardwood trunk that sat between a rocking chair and a rack of empty bottles of all shapes and sizes. She lifted the lid and took out a bundle. When she returned to the table, Ward realized it was a thin leatherbound book and a box of pencils, quills, and tiny, cork-stoppered ink bottles. ¡°This is my book of spells, Ward. You should make yourself one. Mine¡¯s wrapped in salamander hide¡ªvery resistant to fire!¡± Ward reached over the table and ran his fingers along the smooth, mottled hide. ¡°Well, I¡¯ll be damned! That¡¯s pretty neat.¡± He frowned, thinking about some of the less savory people he¡¯d run into since he¡¯d come to that world. ¡°You should be careful; aren¡¯t those worth a lot?¡± ¡°Oh yes, but you see these marks?¡± She pointed to a line of strange symbols burned into the dark leather cover. They were almost invisible against the dark hide. ¡°Yeah?¡± ¡°The artificer who made me the binding attuned it to me, using my blood. If someone else opens the book or tears out a page, it will appear blank. He promised me that it was nearly impossible to get around; even tampering with the runes or adding new ones would render the pages blank, and you¡¯d be wise to believe I¡¯ve got a copy or two hidden around the graveyard.¡± She winked at him. ¡°Maggie! You shouldn¡¯t be telling me things like that!¡± ¡°Oh, you¡¯re not bad. I¡¯d know by now. I¡¯ve got a good sense for people, and the potion you drank would¡¯ve had you coughing blood if your intentions were evil.¡± Ward sputtered, reaching for his throat as though he could do something about the drink he¡¯d already fully imbibed. ¡°You¡ª¡± ¡°Come now! I¡¯m an old woman living by a cemetery; did you believe I couldn¡¯t brew a potion? Nothing to worry about, young wanderer¡ªso long as your intentions are good, it¡¯s nothing but a delicious digestive aid.¡± ¡°That seems really broad! I don¡¯t have good intentions about everything!¡± Ward could feel his throat closing, but he hoped it was just psychosomatic. ¡°Hush! Relax! I mean your intentions concerning me! ¡®Twas my blood in the cup, after all.¡± ¡°Oh, Jesus!¡± This time, Ward really did gag, but all Maggie did was laugh, and he couldn¡¯t tell if she was teasing. Something told him she wasn¡¯t. She¡¯d opened her little book to a blank yellow-white page, and he watched, still feeling a little queasy and horrified, as she meticulously began to copy the embossed copper sheet. After a while, his stomach settled down, and he managed to put the thought of drinking someone¡¯s blood out of his head enough to ask, ¡°You think I could get a book like that made here in Tarnish?¡± ¡°Undoubtedly. I thought you said you had questions for me. Was that it?¡± ¡°Oh, no. I got distracted thinking about your potion.¡± Ward chuckled a little nervously, then shook his head. ¡°So, I¡¯ve learned that the more mana you absorb, the more it alters your body, allowing you to absorb more. That¡¯s right?¡± ¡°Yes! Given time and mana, a person, even a simple human like you or me, could grow in power enough to use some words. Of course, refinement potions created by beings who are unimaginably powerful can help you skip decades of work.¡± She looked at him, narrowed her eyes, and wriggled her nose to show she was teasing. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯m not bitter. I never had the courage to go into those catacombs, never tried to visit any of the other challenges. I¡¯m content.¡± She reached into her box of pens and pencils and pulled out a little pouch. She pulled out a pinch of fine white sand and sprinkled it on the page, absorbing the extra ink. ¡°Anything else?¡± ¡°Will I know if the words are too much for me? Should I try to cast this spell or not?¡± ¡°Not to worry! If you do the meditation faithfully and reach clarity with these words,¡± she drummed her finger on Ward¡¯s copper page, ¡°you¡¯ll understand if they¡¯re too much for you. It¡¯ll be like the mental equivalent of touching a hot coal.¡± ¡°Huh. What¡¯ll it be like if I can use them?¡± ¡°There won¡¯t be any discomfort¡ªonly understanding.¡± She pushed his page back toward him, and Ward slipped it under his shirt again. ¡°Thanks. That¡­¡± Ward sighed and shrugged. ¡°Talking to you has made me feel a lot less like I¡¯m lost at sea without a, uh, rudder or sail or something.¡± She continued to smile, her smooth, rosy cheeks squeezing her eyes upward. ¡°Was there anything else?¡± ¡°Yeah¡­¡± Ward drummed his fingers on the table, considering the question and how much it might reveal about him. Then, with a shrug that was meant more for himself than Maggie, he asked, ¡°Do you know anything about hemographs?¡± 35. Looking at the Numbers ¡°Hemographs?¡± Maggie narrowed her eyes, but they still shone brightly in the sockets. ¡°I know a thing or two, aye. Do you have one?¡± ¡°I do, but I didn¡¯t think to bring it with me. It was only during our talk that I realized how helpful that would have been.¡± ¡°Well, Ward.¡± She carefully pushed her chair back and stood, gathering her mug and Ward¡¯s. ¡°I have one here if we have need of it. What was it you were wanting to know?¡± Ward was desperate to understand so much that he had difficulty formulating his response. Finally, as Maggie put the mugs in her deep, copper wash basin, he simply said, ¡°I don¡¯t understand much at all, to be honest. As I told you, I¡¯m from a world with very little mana. Hemographs aren¡¯t a thing, there. I can see my numbers changing as I absorb mana, especially after I found the refinement in the catacombs, but I don¡¯t understand any of it. Am I stronger and more durable? It seems like it. What¡¯s the deal with bloodlines? Why is it telling me my longevity in a percentage, but everything else is just a flat number? Why¡ª¡± Maggie cackled, tilting her face upward and reveling in the deep belly laugh. ¡°Oh, child! You sound like me when I first stabbed my finger with my gran¡¯s hemograph.¡± She turned away from her wash basin and walked over to the trunk where she¡¯d earlier retrieved her grimoire. ¡°They¡¯re all a little different¡ªhemographs. Quirks of the artificer who created them, different varieties of glyphs, different catalysts, and a range of reagents used in the aetherflux¡ªno two are alike.¡± She lifted out a narrow wooden device about the size of a board game box with a grunt, then carried it over to the table. When she set it down, Ward saw it was well-crafted, with dovetail joinery and lots and lots of delicate, intricate symbols carved into the wooden frame. A pale blue sheet of stained glass sat inside the frame, and, just like in his hemograph, Ward could see some kind of liquid shifting beneath it. He expected Maggie to sit back down, but she moved around the table, back to her kitchen, and lifted the top from a ceramic container. ¡°We should have a cookie if we¡¯re going to be giving blood to that infernal box, hmm?¡± Ward pressed a hand to his stomach. ¡°I couldn¡¯t say no to a cookie.¡± ¡°A big lad like you? I should think not.¡± She took two fairly large, dark cookies out of the jar and, as she returned to the table, asked, ¡°Do you like molasses?¡± ¡°Man, it¡¯s been a long time. I¡¯d say so, yeah.¡± Ward took the offered cookie and took a bite, enjoying the rich, sugary flavor. ¡°This is delicious, Maggie.¡± She watched him, smiling with her lips pressed together as he went for another bite, and Ward suddenly froze. His eyes sprang wide, and he pulled the cookie away from his mouth. ¡°Don¡¯t tell me¡ª" ¡°Hah!¡± She laughed, slapping her knee, before taking a huge bite of her own cookie. ¡°There¡¯s nothing funny about the cookies, Ward. You should be a little more careful, though!¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± he grumbled, setting the cookie on the table beside the board. ¡°Oh, don¡¯t be churlish! If it were a potion or poison, I would¡¯ve been sure one bite would be enough. Go on, now, don¡¯t waste it!¡± Ward shook his head. ¡°I won¡¯t. I¡¯ll eat it while you explain this thing.¡± Ward gestured to the wooden hemograph. ¡°Oh, I¡¯ll explain, but we need a few ground rules first. If we¡¯re going to talk about what the hemograph says, we¡¯ll need to use it. Now, I could just insist that only you do so, and then I could explain what it says about your blood. However, I believe you¡¯ll gain more from the experience if I show you what it says about my blood, too. That means we will be gaining some rather intimate knowledge of each other. Do you swear that what you learn about me will not leave this humble little home?¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± Ward nodded. ¡°Of course!¡± ¡°Very well. Then, you can rest assured I¡¯ll not spread the word of your blood¡¯s secrets, either.¡± She touched something on the side of the box, and, with a snick, a needle erupted from the top left corner¡ªfrom Ward¡¯s perspective. From some hidden pocket or another, Maggie produced a small rag and a tiny bottle. She unstoppered the bottle, dabbed some of its contents onto the cloth, and then wiped the needle. Ward could smell the tell-tale odor of potent alcohol. ¡°Who shall go first?¡± ¡°Um, I can, if you like.¡± Ward cleared his throat and pulled his sleeve back, reaching a finger toward the needle. ¡°Do I just touch the needle? I mean, how much blood does it need?¡± ¡°It¡¯ll sting, but let it sink into your finger, and hold it there until the aetherflux begins to shift.¡± ¡°¡®Aetherflux?¡¯¡± ¡°The liquid behind the glass.¡± ¡°Ah, makes sense.¡± Ward was a little leery about sticking a random needle in his finger, but he¡¯d lost some of his twenty-first-century squeamishness after everything he¡¯d been through since arriving on Cinder. After seeing what healing salves and tonics could do, he wasn¡¯t so sure simple infections or even sickness were anything to worry about¡ªbesides, hadn¡¯t he just seen Maggie wipe it down with alcohol? With that in mind, he pressed the needle into his flesh, grimacing only slightly as he held it there. ¡°Good. Hold it steady. It takes a moment.¡± As she spoke, Maggie leaned close, peering at the tinted glass, watching the inert ¡°aetherflux¡± beneath it. Ward could feel something where the needle sat in his finger¡ªa tingling, itching sensation¡ªand he imagined it was siphoning some of his blood into the device. ¡°There!¡± Maggie pointed to the glass, and Ward saw what she meant. The liquid was swirling and coming alive with neon-blue color. ¡°Wow. That¡¯s a lot prettier than mine. Can I remove my finger?¡± ¡°Yes!¡± She looked excited¡ªgleeful, even. Her demeanor reminded Ward of a child receiving a gift. ¡°You don¡¯t see other people¡¯s reports often, do you?¡± ¡°Hah! No, traveler, I certainly don¡¯t. Look! The letters are forming.¡± She was right; the liquid shifted and separated, and the glowing portions soon formed the lines and curves of fanciful script¡ªletters and numerals. Ward¡¯s eyes opened when he saw the detailed report: Bloodline: Awakened Human (3) Potential Evolutions Detected Accumulated Mana: 140 Mana Well: Tier 3 28% to next tier Mana Sensitivity: Tier 4 Tied to Bloodline Status Mana Pathways: Tier 2 Tied to Bloodline Status Vessel Capacity: Tier 2 Tied to Bloodline Status Vessel Durability: Tier 2 49% to next tier Vessel Strength: The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. Tier 2 35% to next tier Vessel Speed: Tier 2 33% to next tier Longevity remaining: ~65% Tier 2 Depletion Rate Anima Heart: Tier 1 Closed Anima: Depleted ¡°This is a lot more than my hemograph displayed¡ª¡± he began to say, but Maggie cut him off with a gasp. ¡°Your anima! What happened? Ward, don¡¯t you know how vital it is? Did you trade it away for some¡ª¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t trade it willingly,¡± he sighed. ¡°I was near death, and a¡­being sort of tricked me out of it to heal me.¡± Surprising Ward, she turned and spat on her cluttered floor. ¡°Bah! Scoundrel! Leech! Vile, beguiling, trickster! Was it a djinn? A succubus? A Fae temptress? Too many creatures have evolved to thrive off our vital force! Oh, Ward! You must travel to one of the higher worlds. Perhaps, even Primus¡ªI¡¯ve heard from travelers that the academy there has knowledge of such things. I¡¯m afraid I don¡¯t know much about the anima readings other than knowing it should not say ¡®depleted.¡¯¡± ¡°Yeah, I get that.¡± Ward sighed and shook his head. ¡°Can you tell me what anima does? I know it¡¯s important; I know it has something to do with a person¡¯s ¡®soul¡¯ or ¡®spirit,¡¯ but I¡¯d like to see if what I¡¯ve been told is¡­accurate, I guess.¡± Maggie shrugged. ¡°Depends on who you ask¡ªwhich priest or mage or,¡± she chuckled, ¡°old crone. My gran taught me about how precious it was, about how there were creatures hiding among us that could drain it, sometimes promising gifts or miracles and sometimes just taking it, leaving you a husk of yourself. You¡¯re right to think it has something to do with your soul, though, most will agree. It¡¯s anima that protects it from influence or capture and sees it through to the afterlife.¡± ¡°Yeah, I was told that when you die, the anima pushes your spirit through to the next life or whatever and that what¡¯s left behind becomes mana. That¡¯s why I can see it drifting out of dead bodies.¡± ¡°My gran told me something similar. The anima pierces the veil for our spirits. There are those who know more than I, traveler. You should visit Port Granite¡ªthere¡¯s a library and more powerful sorcerers than we.¡± She gestured to Ward and then back to herself. ¡°All right.¡± Ward looked back at the hemograph¡¯s report. ¡°What about this? What¡¯s an ¡®anima heart¡¯? Do you know what it means by ¡®closed¡¯?¡± ¡°Only what my gran told me. The heart is what holds your anima.¡± The old woman shrugged and nibbled her cookie. ¡°Mine¡¯s closed, too, and my gran told me that was good. She said it meant it was safe.¡± She looked almost teary as she locked her bright blue eyes with Ward¡¯s. ¡°I¡¯m sorry you lost your anima, child.¡± Ward smiled and reached across the table to rest one of his large hands on hers. It was tiny and bony but warm. ¡°Listen, Maggie. I¡¯ve come to grips with the theft, and, yeah, it stirred up my anger, but I¡¯m determined to fix this problem. I just need to learn everything I can as fast as I can. Can you explain some of these other things to me?¡± He gestured to the hemograph. ¡°Well, my dear, poor traveler, your other numbers are quite impressive! You¡¯ve ¡®awakened¡¯ your bloodline potentials and that¡¯s why your other measurements are almost all at least tier-two. If you look at the right-hand column, which provides some extra information, you can see that some of your attributes can be increased¡ªthose are the ones that give you a percentage toward the next tier.¡± ¡°I improve those by harvesting mana, right?¡± ¡°Exactly! As you gain mana, it will gradually feed your vessel, increasing how much mana you can hold and making you stronger, healthier, and faster.¡± ¡°And the ones ¡®tied to my bloodline status¡¯?¡± ¡°Those cannot be improved until you improve your vessel another way¡ªabsorbing mana won¡¯t do it. The refinement potion you found is an example of that. You can see your ¡®mana well¡¯ and ¡®mana sensitivity¡¯ readings are higher than your other attributes, likely due to a lucky trait you inherited from an ancestor.¡± She tapped her finger on his longevity reading and chuckled. ¡°You¡¯re already aging at a tier-two rate and have sixty-five percent left. You¡¯ll be a very old man when you die if you don¡¯t get murdered or fall off a cliff.¡± Ward sighed, reaching up to scratch his head. ¡°I guess that¡¯s good, but I have to weigh that against the fact that I¡¯ve got no anima, so it¡¯s hard to get excited.¡± He stared at the numbers for another minute. ¡°I think I understand all those attributes except for this one.¡± He tapped his finger on the ¡°Vessel Capacity¡± reading. ¡°That means you won¡¯t be improving your tier rating for the other ¡®vessel¡¯ attributes beyond the second tier.¡± ¡°Even if I improve them to one hundred percent?¡± ¡°That¡¯s right. Until you improve the tier rating of your vessel capacity, you¡¯re bound to that tier.¡± ¡°Right. I guess I get it.¡± He frowned and stared at the report one more time, and then he realized there was something new after the ¡°bloodline¡± reading. ¡°What does it mean there are three ¡®potential evolutions¡¯?¡± Maggie smiled and stood, walking over to her kitchen area. ¡°That¡¯s a mystery for me, too, my traveling friend. My report says something similar, but I¡¯ve never grown beyond ¡®awakened,¡¯ and none of my¡­colleagues in the area know more about this stuff than I do.¡± She rummaged in a cabinet, and then Ward heard the clink of glass. She returned to the table with two cork-stoppered bottles. When she handed one to him, he was surprised to find the glass very cold. ¡°Some of my own honey mead. I keep it cold with an artificer¡¯s device¡ªa ¡®chillarium,¡¯ he called it.¡± ¡°That¡¯s¡­fantastic!¡± Ward pulled the cork and sniffed the concoction. It was heady with alcoholic vapors but also spicy and sweet smelling. ¡°Now, you¡¯ve shown me your readings, so it¡¯s only fair that I do the same. It will give you a better understanding of your own.¡± Without further ado, she jabbed her thumb down on the needle. Ward winced and tilted the bottle to his lips. Before he drank, though, he paused and locked eyes with Maggie. ¡°This isn¡¯t a potion or something, is it?¡± ¡°Hah! No, dear man, it¡¯s just a refreshing beverage to numb your nose for the walk back to town in the cold weather.¡± As if to prove her point, she took a long drink from her bottle and sighed with satisfaction. Ward shrugged; he¡¯d already consumed two other offerings. He tilted the bottle back to his lips and took a long pull of the icy drink. Despite its honey scent, it was barely sweet at all, but it was smooth and refreshing with a distinct herbal aftertaste. He could taste the alcohol and had a feeling Maggie was right; he¡¯d have a heavy buzz on his walk back to town. Grinning, he picked up his cookie and took another large bite. As he chewed, Maggie took her finger away from the needle, and the magical liquid in the hemograph began to glow and swirl, forming the characters that made up her report: Bloodline: Awakened Human (1) Potential Evolutions Detected Accumulated Mana: 11 Mana Well: Tier 4 77% to next tier Mana Sensitivity: Tier 1 Tied to Bloodline Status Mana Pathways: Tier 2 Tied to Bloodline Status Vessel Capacity: Tier 1 Tied to Bloodline Status Vessel Durability: Tier 1 99% to next tier Vessel Strength: Tier 1 99% to next tier Vessel Speed: Tier 1 99% to next tier Longevity remaining: ~12% Tier 1 Depletion Rate Anima Heart: Tier 1 Closed Anima: 100% Ward stared at the numbers, noting the differences between them and the report for his blood. He was about to start asking questions, but Maggie filled the silence, ¡°When I harvested enough mana to improve my mana well, the hemograph labeled me ¡®awakened,¡¯ but my ¡®vessel¡¯ readings never went beyond tier-one. So, you can see how I managed to improve my vessel to the maximum of tier-one potential, but I never broke through to tier-two.¡± ¡°What about your mana pathways?¡± ¡°Those improved to tier two when my ¡®mana well¡¯ reading reached tier four. It allowed me to cast much more difficult spells than before without harming myself.¡± ¡°Mmhmm. I guess the only other differences are that you have one ¡®potential evolution¡¯ and, of course, you still have your anima.¡± ¡°That¡¯s right, Ward. I suppose you can see how lucky you were to be born with a higher mana sensitivity, hmm? Not only that but the refinement potion¡­¡± She trailed off, shaking her head. ¡°Oh, I won¡¯t allow myself to be jealous! I¡¯m too old for all that! Ward, I wish you luck, but it¡¯s about time I tended to my chickens.¡± Ward nodded and stood, still clutching the remainder of his cookie. He drained the rest of his cider before setting the bottle back on the table. ¡°That was delicious. Thanks, Maggie. I might be in town for a little while. If so, do you mind if I come by to chat about this stuff?¡± He gestured to her grimoire, still sitting on the table. ¡°I¡¯d appreciate it! Next time, bring me a sweet treat, and I¡¯ll brew you something even nicer!¡± Her chuckle sounded more like a cackle, and Ward couldn¡¯t help laughing along with the crazy old woman. He was almost sorry to have to leave, but Maggie was busy, and he had things to do and people to meet, so he pushed his chair back under the table. Stooping low, he turned toward the door. ¡°Thanks again, Maggie. Stay warm.¡± ¡°You too, young man! Get yourself a nice warm coat!¡± 36. Something Terrible 36 ¨C Something Terrible As soon as he was strolling down the dirt and gravel track that ran beside the cemetery, Ward looked around for Grace. ¡°You there?¡± ¡°I am. That was very interesting, though I wish you¡¯d asked more questions! Do you think she¡¯d sell any of the words she has in her little book?¡± ¡°I thought about that. It¡¯s why I asked if she¡¯d mind me coming by again. I figure I¡¯ll take a little time to try to figure out this one,¡± Ward tapped the copper sheet wedged against his chest by his shoulder strap, ¡°before I worry about all that. Don¡¯t you think I¡¯ll come up with more questions as I get into it?¡± ¡°I suppose. The funny thing is that you already know more than any of my previous hosts. None of them knew anything about those meditative poses. No wonder Christina struggled so much with that word of hers!¡± ¡°It¡¯s weird to think there have been travelers to and from our world, but so little is known about magic.¡± Ward was feeling his irritation about his missing anima rather acutely after his talk with Maggie, but he was trying not to start another fight with his ¡°passenger.¡± Still, he couldn¡¯t resist asking, ¡°So, I¡¯m sure you heard what she thinks of the kinds of ¡®creatures¡¯ who feed on anima.¡± ¡°Ugh! I hate being lumped in with all those, Ward!¡± Her tone was pleading, and he glanced at her sharply, trying to catch a slip¡ªsome hint of a sly expression or patently false emotion. She looked genuinely remorseful, though, and he sighed, shaking his head. If she was as old as she claimed, she¡¯d had plenty of time to perfect her acting. ¡°Well, as far as I know, you ate all of my anima, and now you¡¯re just biding your time until you find a new victim.¡± She started to protest, and Ward held up a hand. ¡°I¡¯m just stating the facts, Grace. Don¡¯t expect me to really trust you anytime soon. I believe, for whatever reason, keeping me alive is in your best interest; you¡¯ve demonstrated that by helping me during fights. So, I¡¯ll trust that you¡¯re not trying to get me killed, but I don¡¯t know if I can believe a word you say otherwise.¡± He turned onto the main road to town and, as he stood there, soaking in the mid-morning sun, much warmer out of the shade of the trees lining the cemetery path, he saw there was a good deal more activity by the gates. A dozen wagons, some drawn by big shaggy oxen and some powered by steam and what looked like clockworks, were lined up on the road, and people bustled around, loading and shifting cargo. ¡°Looks like a caravan is getting ready to head out.¡± ¡°Maybe you should purchase a ride north. You could leave all that business with Haley and her parents¡¯ killer. We could find the next challenge, and you could put all that stuff behind you¡ª¡± ¡°Oh, hush. I have things ordered in town. I¡¯m not gonna bail on Haley, anyway.¡± Ward focused on one of the big steam-driven wagons, at the big brass wheels and the long drive shafts between them. A steam stack rose up near the front, and on either side were two widely placed seats. The back of the wagon was a flatbed with tall side rails holding in the jumble of crates and barrels. ¡°Might be smart to see if there¡¯s another caravan heading out soon, though. Seems like a good way to travel. Safety in numbers and all that.¡± ¡°Sure,¡± Grace nodded, skipping along beside him, apparently unbothered by Ward¡¯s declared lack of trust, ¡°as long as you realize that all that cargo probably draws criminals¡­¡± ¡°I guess. Might be slower than if we bought a couple of fast mounts, too.¡± He nodded and waved to the folks working on the wagons. Several called out greetings, and he found himself grinning like an idiot. He supposed it had something to do with having lived and worked in the Pacific Northwest for so long¡ªpeople generally kept to themselves while out and about in Seattle. When he arrived at the inn, he¡¯d barely taken two steps into the common room before Fan called out from behind the bar, ¡°Ward! Good news!¡± He walked over, eyebrows raised, and she continued, ¡°One of our guests left early, so I¡¯ve made up the empty room for you. Also, you received a big package from Tailor Thorn. It¡¯s in your room.¡± She dangled a key from a short copper chain, and Ward walked closer to take it from her. ¡°Kicking me out, huh?¡± ¡°Oh!¡± Fan laughed and swung her dishtowel at him playfully. ¡°It¡¯s not like that! I thought you¡¯d like a little privacy.¡± ¡°I appreciate it. Not that your room wasn¡¯t great. I really do appreciate the hospitality, but yeah, it¡¯ll be good to know I¡¯m not imposing.¡± Ward held up a hand, ¡°I know, I know. I wasn¡¯t imposing.¡± He chuckled and started for the stairs. ¡°I¡¯m anxious to get out of these clothes. Do you want them back?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t.¡± She chuckled. ¡°Still, leave ¡®em outside your door, and we¡¯ll wash them and see if Willard wants to keep those old rags or give them to the shelter.¡± Ward paused. ¡°Shelter?¡± ¡°For folks down on their luck. Pastor Foal runs it on the south side of town.¡± ¡°Really? Pastor? What religion?¡± Fan shook her head and clicked her tongue. ¡°It¡¯s a cult if you ask most folks. The Flame Keepers. They claim that the fire that scours Cinder is doing the will of a divine being. They say that if we¡¯d all listen to their scripture, we could learn how to stop it.¡± ¡°Ah.¡± Ward nodded, waved, and went up to his room. He¡¯d been curious at Fan¡¯s use of the word ¡°pastor,¡± but hearing about the religion or cult or whatever it was, he¡¯d quickly dismissed pursuing the topic; he had enough to worry about. The key was stamped with a number four, so it was easy to find his room¡ªthe second door on the right. Inside, just as Fan had promised, several packages waited for him on the trunk at the foot of the bed. Ward glanced around and didn¡¯t see Grace. He knew she¡¯d probably jump out at him when he was naked, but he decided he was past caring and began to strip down. He was ready to wear some clean clothes. The first package, wrapped in butcher paper and twine, held most of his new clothes. He quickly pulled out some thin cotton or hemp underpants, pulled them on, and then unfolded his new pants. They were wool, but a fine, smooth wool much different than the old wool blanket he¡¯d gotten from his grandmother when she passed away. The pants were artfully made, well-stitched, and fit him perfectly. As he pulled on one of the long-sleeved, button-up shirts, he found it similarly perfect. Every item he¡¯d gotten from Mr. Thorn was monogrammed with an elaborate W, and as he thought about that, his head began to hurt. Why was the alphabet the same here? Was it? Was he seeing something other than a W, and Grace somehow translated it for him? Rather than let her surprise him, he spoke into the empty room for a change. ¡°Grace, why are the letters in the alphabet here the same as the ones I learned on Earth?¡± Suddenly, she was standing next to the mirror, watching as he worked to tuck his shirt into his pants. ¡°I, and others of my kind, have something called a gift of tongues, and, as I told you when we first arrived here, that gift transfers to our hosts. It¡¯s an innate ability, and, no, I don¡¯t know how it works. I also don¡¯t know if that ¡®W¡¯ is really like a ¡®W¡¯ that you might write in English because all written languages look the same to me; they match the first language I ever learned, which is called Ghenti.¡± She shrugged. ¡°Sorry, I can¡¯t tell you more. Maybe if I ever go home or meet someone who managed to live to adulthood among my people, I can find out.¡± Ward looked at her and narrowed his eyes. ¡°What about your uncle? Didn¡¯t you ¡®call on him¡¯ to help me?¡± ¡°He¡¯s not the kind of person you¡¯d want to ask for any sort of lesson, Ward.¡± ¡°Uh-huh. Well, in any case, this language thing is weird. Why don¡¯t I understand the words of power?¡± ¡°That¡¯s a great question. Wish I had the answer.¡± Grace moved away from the mirror and circled him. It was clear she¡¯d dismissed the topic when she said, ¡°My, that tailor did a nice job fitting those clothes. You look quite dapper. What about your belt and boots?¡± ¡°Did they come?¡± Ward picked up the other package wrapped in burlap he¡¯d buried under the extra shirts, pants, and undergarments he¡¯d purchased. He opened it up and took out his new belt and boots, pleased by the rich scent of well-oiled leather. He threaded the belt through the wide, custom-stitched loops on his pants and smiled as he secured the shiny brass buckle. ¡°Feels good.¡± If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. ¡°Don¡¯t forget your knife.¡± ¡°Ah, yeah.¡± Ward picked up his shoulder harness and removed the leather ties he¡¯d used to hook the knife sheath to it. That done, he loosened his belt to slide it on. With his big knife sitting comfortably on his hip, Ward slung his shoulder holster on, then walked over and picked up his new woolen jacket. It was lined with red silk and felt like an old friend when he shrugged it on. Walking over to the mirror, he gave himself a once over and smiled. He looked sharp, and looking sharp always made him feel sharp. He¡¯d gotten lazy about his clothes back on Earth, but that was a different Ward, a beat-down, tired, ready-to-check-out Ward. This Ward was looking forward to all kinds of things, from exploring to learning magic to finding and punishing the people who¡¯d wronged him and his friend. ¡°Not too shabby,¡± Grace said, walking in a slow circle around him, ¡°I can¡¯t even think of anything snide. You look hot. What about the hat?¡± ¡°Right!¡± Ward went back to the pile of clothes and picked up the round, wicker hat box. He loosened the pale gray ribbon and pulled off the top, revealing his wide-brimmed, black felt hat. He picked it up, turned it to see the silky gray lining, and smiled when he saw the stylized W stitched into the hat band. He set it on his head and sighed, pleased at the perfect fit. He tugged on the lapels of his coat, wriggling his shoulders. ¡°Damn, that guy¡¯s a wizard when it comes to sizing things.¡± ¡°That looks pretty cool.¡± Grace almost sounded upset. ¡°You remind me of some of the nicer dressed cowboys during the eighteen hundreds. The Doc Holliday types.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t even have my boots on.¡± Ward chuckled and sat on the bench to remedy that, sliding his feet into the new socks and then into his boots. Like everything else, they felt good, if a bit stiff. ¡°Need to break ¡®em in.¡± When he stood up, he felt like a new man. ¡°Still need to get a new pack¡ªsomething leather. I¡¯m not wearing that ratty old scavenger pack over these new clothes.¡± ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll pass by an outfitter or two while you¡¯re out and about. Are you going to bring your spear?¡± ¡°Uh, shit, not right now. I need to talk to Haley and figure out how best to approach this bookie guy.¡± ¡°Foyle.¡± ¡°Right. That¡¯s it. Wish I knew what time Haley was going to stop by.¡± ¡°Well? You¡¯re all set, and Fan knows where to find you. Why not try those meditation form thingies?¡± ¡°Not a bad idea.¡± Ward took off his hat and jacket, folding it on the chest beside his other clothes. Then he picked up the copper sheet from where he¡¯d left it. Studying the diagrams of the forms, he thought, based on how the dotted lines for his legs were bent, that they all seemed to be positions he was supposed to get into while sitting down. He unlaced his new boots and took them off, deciding it would be much easier to fold his legs and shift from one position to another if he could properly bend his ankles. Grace cleared her throat. ¡°Well? Do you want any help, or am I too untrustworthy?¡± ¡°If you have anything helpful to say, go ahead.¡± Grace plopped down in front of him, folding her legs beneath herself. ¡°She said first you need to become still enough to feel and hear your heart. Is that going to be hard for you?¡± ¡°I¡¯ve never tried, so, yeah, probably.¡± Ward got comfortable¡ªmuch easier for him than he could have imagined back in his old life. His legs were flexible, and neither his knees nor hips complained when he folded his legs before him, sitting in a sort of lotus position with his hands resting on his knees. He closed his eyes and started by taking deep, slow breaths, listening to the air as it whooshed into his lungs and then out again. Before he realized it, he was finding that ¡°grounded¡± place that Grace had guided him to when he first tried to absorb mana. His mind and body just sort of clicked into it, and then, in that quiet, still place, he tried to concentrate on his heart, listening for the thump, trying to feel it in his chest. Quite some time passed before Grace lost patience and asked, ¡°Is it working?¡± ¡°Not yet. Certainly not now that you¡¯ve got me talking.¡± Ward sighed and leaned back, stretching his muscles that had begun to cramp. ¡°I¡¯m not sure I¡¯ve got it in me; I didn¡¯t find even a hint of my heartbeat.¡± ¡°I know, I know, I interrupted you, but I have some advice if you¡¯ll listen.¡± Grace leaned toward him, peering up almost apologetically. Ward wanted to smile¡ªher tone wasn¡¯t usually so deferential¡ªbut he reminded himself he was irritated with her and kept his face straight. ¡°Go ahead, oh wise one.¡± ¡°I tease you about being old, but you know I¡¯ve been around a lot longer than you have, yeah? I mean, my last couple of hosts were youngsters, so I¡¯m acting a little like that now, but I do have a thing or two I could teach you. A couple of my hosts were very much into meditation.¡± ¡°I¡¯m listening.¡± Ward straightened and nodded. ¡°Okay, so your breathing is closely tied to your heartbeat. Did you know that? There¡¯s a reason cardio and pulmonary go together so well.¡± ¡°Makes sense.¡± ¡°So, I want you to focus on your breathing. Keep it steady and slow, and try to listen to your breaths going into your body. In through your nose, all the way down to your belly button, and then out, slowly through your mouth. Don¡¯t let your mind wander. Focus on your breaths, every part of them. They should become your world. When you focus on their pattern and the sounds they make in your body, you¡¯ll notice a rhythm tied to the slow, steady whoosh. That¡¯s likely your heart. When you hear that, try to focus on it. Most importantly, don¡¯t worry about the time or whether you¡¯re succeeding. None of that should matter; only the breathing matters.¡± Right away, Ward heard something he¡¯d been doing ¡°wrong.¡± His mind had been wandering, big time. He¡¯d been thinking about Nevkin and about how he wanted to beat the shit out of him or, if he was responsible for the attacks on Haley¡¯s family, worse. ¡°Anything else?¡± ¡°Just that this is probably going to be a process. Don¡¯t get frustrated if you don¡¯t get there today.¡± Ward cocked his head and looked at Grace sideways. ¡°What¡¯s gotten into you?¡± ¡°What?¡± ¡°So positive and encouraging!¡± When she began to frown, he hurriedly added, ¡°I appreciate it; that¡¯s all.¡± ¡°Whatever. Go ahead now; I¡¯ll be quiet.¡± She folded her arms, staring at him, but he saw a smile in her eyes, even if she was pointedly pressing her lips together in a flat line. As he closed his eyes, he realized what he¡¯d been thinking¡ªworrying about Grace¡¯s feelings and whether she was smiling¡ªand he frowned, irritated. Was it impossible for him to hold a grudge? Was she somehow beguiling him? He shook his head, banishing that train of thought. He took a few seconds to shake out his arms, then put his hands back on his knees, closed his eyes, and tried to concentrate on his breathing. Much as before, he found that comfortable stillness quickly, but the trick was to stay that way and to keep his mind focused on his breaths, banishing all the little nibbling thoughts that came into his mind, the worries, the hopes, and even the fears. His mind kept trying to think about how strange it was that he was attempting to learn magic. He kept wondering what the guys in the department were doing. Had they decided he was dead? Missing? That made him think of his sister¡ªhad she given up looking for him? He felt a surge of guilt at the thought, annoyed that he¡¯d hardly thought of her since he¡¯d been swept into all this madness. Furiously, Ward chased those thoughts out of his head only to find himself thinking of Haley and the hell she¡¯d been through. First, her brother had died in front of her, his brains dashed out on a marble slab, and then her parents had been murdered in a bloody home invasion. All that, and she was coming to the inn to see him the day after? It seemed insane¡ª ¡°You¡¯re not concentrating!¡± Grace leaned forward and tweaked his ear. ¡°Dammit!¡± Ward slapped her hand away, and her eyes widened. ¡°That was quick!¡± ¡°Oh yeah?¡± ¡°Yes, but forget it for now. Get back to that meditation, and remember to empty your mind!¡± ¡°Right.¡± Once again, Ward focused on his breathing, grounded himself, and then, in the silence of his echoing mind, he focused on the sounds of his breath, the way it made his nose, throat, lungs, and stomach feel as he drew it in. He focused on how it left his body, slowly flowing out, leaving a void that collapsed as he compressed his diaphragm¡­badump. Ward was so startled that his eyes shot open, and he gasped. ¡°What?¡± Grace looked just as startled as he did. ¡°I heard it!¡± Ward grinned. ¡°Felt it, too!¡± She frowned. ¡°And then you lost it.¡± ¡°So? Now that I know I can do it, it¡¯ll get easier. Relax.¡± Ward chuckled at the irony of his words as he closed his eyes and tried again. It took a while and a few aborted attempts when he realized his thoughts were spiraling away from him again, but he did find the heartbeat a second time. That time, he zeroed in on it, and his focus, his world¡ªeven his sense of self¡ªdisappeared in that faint but steady and immeasurably reassuring thump in his chest. If someone had asked him how long he sat that way before a knock sounded at the door, startling him out of his meditation, he couldn¡¯t have answered. For all he could tell, it might have been twenty minutes or two hours. ¡°Ward?¡± He recognized Haley¡¯s voice right away and jumped up, his knees and ankles almost buckling on him; they¡¯d fallen asleep. ¡°Just a sec. Coming.¡± Grace leaned against the wall near the door. ¡°Well, you made progress. Maybe after she leaves, we can try the first form, and you can meditate on those words.¡± ¡°Yeah! Damn, I¡¯m relaxed right now.¡± Ward smiled, stretching and yawning, then walked over to the door and let Haley in. When he saw her in a black woolen overcoat, black hat, and shiny black boots, he was suddenly dumbstruck by the situation. She was in mourning. ¡°Hey¡­¡± She offered him a smile, her face very wan under the dark fabric of her felt, black hat. It looked warm but had almost no brim at all. Her short dark hair was tucked back behind her ears, pinned down by the hat, and she looked even younger than usual. ¡°Hi, Ward. Can I come in? I did something terrible this morning.¡± 37. Shrovak Gnyrath 37 ¨C Shrovak Gnyrath ¡°Terrible?¡± Ward gave Haley another look and saw the bloodshot nature of her eyes and the way her hands were gripping and twisting the lapels of her coat. He pulled the door open and stepped out of her way. ¡°Come in.¡± She stepped through, and Ward closed the door. He motioned to the little table by the window. ¡°Sit down. What¡¯s going on?¡± He walked with her, and when she pulled out one of the two chairs, he took the other, placing his back to the chilly glass pane. ¡°Well, I started off the day with good intentions. I went to see the alchemist I told you about and picked up some bone-mending salve and a pain and healing tonic. I rubbed the salve on my wrist as I walked home, leaving plenty to help your captive with his arm. I remembered my father had some game traps in the shed out back, and they were attached to chains, so I thought I could use one of those to bind him.¡± She spoke quickly and appeared nervous, looking to the side a lot. ¡°I¡¯m explaining that because it¡¯s why I didn¡¯t stop by the market. I had what I needed, you see?¡± ¡°Yeah, sure. Did something happen with that guy?¡± ¡°When I returned, I went down to the cellar, and he was asleep, sitting on that barrel, his back to the post. He looked pitiful¡ªwan and frail, his breathing fitful. So I rubbed the salve on his swollen, purple arm, which woke him. He thanked me as I finished with the cream and even more profusely when I gave him the pain tonic. He seemed much better, his face flushed again, a tremulous smile on his lips¡­¡± Haley stopped speaking, and Ward could see tears welling in her eyes. He opened his mouth to ask her what was wrong, but then she started again, her words coming out in a rushed, hoarse whisper, ¡°I hated him for that. How could he smile after he tried to kill you? Would my parents ever smile again?¡± Ward reached toward Haley¡¯s clasped, white-knuckled hands, but she pulled them away. ¡°What happened?¡± ¡°I left to get the chains. When I came back, standing above the trapdoor, I heard a commotion below, and I knew he was trying to break free of his bonds. His arm wasn¡¯t hurting anymore, you understand?¡± Ward nodded, frowning, and she continued. ¡°I could have gone down and stopped him. I could have put the chains on him and been done with him, but I stood there, and I listened, and I knew a part of me wanted him to get free. Not so he could get away, but so I¡¯d have an excuse to beat him.¡± ¡°Ah, Jesus¡­¡± Ward had a feeling he knew where the story was going. ¡°Yes. I know not whose name you invoke, but my deeds are worthy of exclamation. I crept down the stairs, chains in hand, waiting and watching, and when he broke free of the bonds and rushed toward the stairway, I lashed out, catching him by surprise with the first blow. Not once or twice, but a dozen times I thrashed him with those chains, and when I was finished, he was dead.¡± Haley sat there, unmoving, her face almost serene as tears streaked her cheeks. Ward was a little dumbfounded. He wanted to exclaim¡ªto react¡ªbut he didn¡¯t know how he should. He felt responsible, and he supposed that was because he was. What possessed him to bring a guy connected to her parents'' murder to her house? Not even a single day had passed! He grasped his head in his hands, trying to stimulate some blood flow. ¡°It¡¯s my fault, Haley.¡± ¡°Yeah, I can see that.¡± Grace chimed in. ¡°Probably something we should have seen coming.¡± ¡°You did nothing wrong. In fact, you were kind to the poor man¡­¡± Haley¡¯s poise crumbled, and a sob escaped her. ¡°Uh-uh!¡± Ward reached for her hands again; this time, he was quicker than she, catching them between his. They were unusually cold; whatever magic usually kept them hot must have been spent, or she¡¯d failed to gather it. They felt tiny and frail, and he wrapped his broad, warm palms over them. ¡°That guy was a murderous thug. I won¡¯t argue that what you did was right¡ªit wasn¡¯t. Still, you aren¡¯t yourself right now. You¡¯ve been through hell and suffered some horrible losses, all in the span of a couple of days. To you and me, your brother only died a few days ago. Yesterday, your parents were killed, and you had one of the guys connected to that murder in your cellar. That¡¯s my fault! You hear me? Some people won¡¯t understand, but I do.¡± Haley had stopped trying to pull her hands away almost immediately, and now she hung her head, tears dripping on the wooden floor between them. ¡°I feel like it was murder.¡± ¡°You wanted to beat him, right? You wanted to punish him. That was your intention when you swung that chain, yeah?¡± ¡°Yes. I went too far, though.¡± ¡°You lost yourself in your emotions. It¡¯s not right, but it¡¯s understandable. You feel guilty now because you¡¯re not a murderer. Listen, I used to work in law enforcement. I¡¯ve met bad people aplenty, and you¡¯re not one. I don¡¯t know how things work in this world, or more specifically, this city, but¡ª¡± ¡°I think they¡¯d hang me if they heard what I did.¡± Haley delivered the words flatly. ¡°Even with the circumstances?¡± ¡°I fear we¡¯d both be in trouble for bringing that man to the cellar, and, if anyone saw what I did to him, they¡¯d think it was murder. Vengeance.¡± ¡°Then nobody will know. I won¡¯t see you hanged.¡± ¡°I¡ª¡± ¡°Forget it. I could¡¯ve killed him when he jumped me, just like I killed his pal. That¡¯s the risk a man takes when he decides to start murdering for hire. It¡¯s over. He got what was coming to him, as far as I¡¯m concerned. I¡¯ll deal with the body tonight. Your home has a big back garden. Are there shovels in the shed?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± She sobbed again, and this time, she leaned forward over their clasped hands, pressing her forehead against Ward¡¯s outstretched arm. ¡°I¡¯m so tired, Ward. I should¡¯ve slept last night.¡± ¡°Yeah, but that¡¯s hard to do when an idiot brings a criminal to your house and locks him in your wine cellar.¡± Grace cleared her throat and surprised Ward by stepping close to Haley, resting a hand on her back. It looked to him like she actually touched her, but Haley didn¡¯t seem to feel it. ¡°God, she¡¯s wrecked.¡± ¡°Grace is worried about you,¡± Ward said softly. He stood up, still clasping Haley¡¯s hands in his. ¡°Come on, why don¡¯t you lie down here a while? I¡¯ve been trying to meditate on those words I found in the catacombs. I¡¯ll be quiet.¡± Haley allowed him to pull her to her feet, and when she looked at him with eyes red and swollen with tears, he let go with one hand to reach up and brush some of them off her cheek. ¡°Hush now. Come on. You¡¯ll get through this.¡± He pulled her around the side of the bed, and when she climbed in without saying a word, resting her head on the thick, soft pillow, he folded the quilt from the other side of the bed over her. ¡°See you when you wake.¡± He''d turned away when her voice came to him, small and quiet, ¡°What did she say?¡± ¡°Hmm?¡± ¡°Grace. What did she say about me?¡± ¡°She said you¡¯re a good person, and you shouldn¡¯t feel so rotten. She said you should sleep for a little while.¡± ¡°Liar,¡± Grace said. ¡°I guess I agree, though.¡± Ward watched Haley for a minute as she lay there, eyes closed. Her breathing, shallow and ragged at first, soon smoothed out, and he knew she was sleeping. ¡°Ugh, what a mess.¡± ¡°It¡¯ll haunt her. You better not bring her with you when you confront that Foyle character.¡± ¡°Try telling her that¡ª¡± ¡°Something tells me she¡¯ll be a little more willing to let you handle things. I think she got the murder out of her system.¡± Grace¡¯s words were harsh, but Ward had to admit she was probably right. He thought about how he¡¯d so quickly promised to help the girl hide the evidence of her crime. Would he have done something like that back on Earth? How had he grown so attached to Haley in such a short time? Was it their shared trauma of the catacombs? Was it the horrible losses he¡¯d seen her suffer? Whatever the case, he felt no guilt about helping her avoid more trouble. Ward returned to his position on the rug, picked up his copper spell sheet, and whispered, ¡°I¡¯ll try out some of these positions. Let me know if she wakes or something.¡± ¡°No worries.¡± Grace moved to sit on the foot of the bed, and, not for the first time, Ward wondered what it was like not to be able to touch anything but your host. He imagined Grace would¡¯ve liked to comfort Haley. Her concern for the girl was a little out of character, and he wondered if it had something to do with Haley¡¯s immediate acceptance of her or if maybe the young woman reminded Grace of someone. Staring at the first form on the copper sheet, it took Ward a few minutes to push the thoughts of Haley¡¯s confession out of his head. He found himself debating the subject in his mind again. He was a big believer in intentions and understanding circumstances. He knew Haley wasn¡¯t a bad person, and he knew the guy she¡¯d killed wasn¡¯t a good person. That was enough for him, never mind the fact that the thug had tried to kill him. Ward wasn¡¯t going to shed any tears, and he certainly wasn¡¯t going to see Haley get in trouble for his own stupidity. He¡¯d go there and deal with the evidence in the night; there was no sense in allowing the neighbors to see him fertilizing the garden. Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work! That settled, he turned to the copper sheet and looked at the first form. It seemed he was supposed to have one leg straight, one leg bent to the side, the arm opposite the straight leg should be bent at the elbow and held out from the side of his body, and his other arm should be atop his head. He set the card on the carpet and worked to position his body, and when he was sitting that way, feeling like an idiot, he closed his eyes. He began to feel uncomfortable after just a couple of minutes as he worked to find his stillness and his heartbeat. Surprisingly, the awkwardness of the position seemed to fade from his conscious mind rather quickly, and he found his meditative state much more easily than before. The only explanation he could think of was that practice makes perfect. Once he¡¯d found his heartbeat, though, he realized he¡¯d messed up¡ªhe couldn¡¯t think of the words, let alone meditate on them. He opened his eyes, losing much of his progress, and focused on the copper sheet, staring at the words. Softly, he whispered, ¡°Shrovak gnyrath.¡± Mentally, he kept repeating them over and over so he wouldn¡¯t forget them before he found his center. With that weird mantra in his head, he also tried to focus on his breathing and put himself into that deep meditative state, searching for his heart. The words began to take on a strange, echoing, resonant quality in his mind, and he found himself mentally drifting along the peculiar curves and bumps of their sound. Amazingly, he felt his heartbeat in seconds, and with that steady, natural rhythm, he repeated the words, tracing their sounds and flow with his mind. He began to lose himself in them. Ward had no idea how long he¡¯d been at it when something strange occurred. He began to notice how the words and their echoing shapes and colors in his mind resonated with his body, flowing out into his oddly bent limbs. When he let his consciousness follow that strange flow of light and sound in his mind¡¯s eye, he started to recognize how the flow reached a sort of bottleneck, and it clicked for him; he was supposed to move to the next form, allowing the flow to continue. Ward opened his eyes and saw Grace staring at him intently, eyes narrowed. When he looked at her, she asked, ¡°What happened? Something happened, right?¡± ¡°I think I¡¯m getting it. I need to practice the forms a few times so I can do them while I¡¯m meditating. I¡¯m meant to go through them, one into another, not all separately.¡± The room seemed different, and Ward realized the light had changed. His window was east-facing, and the sun was no longer shining through it. ¡°How long was I at it?¡± ¡°More than an hour, I¡¯d say.¡± ¡°Whew, really?¡± Ward was whispering, and he shook his head bemused. ¡°Felt like about fifteen minutes to me.¡± Grace didn¡¯t reply, and when he looked at her, he saw she was looking toward the head of the bed. ¡°She okay?¡± ¡°Sleeping peacefully. She whimpered earlier¡ªI think it was a nightmare. She¡¯s okay now.¡± Ward nodded and then took about fifteen minutes to practice the different forms on the card, trying to memorize the feeling as he transitioned from one to another. Each form was close in position to the one before it, so he never had to move a leg or arm much, and it was interesting to see how the fifth form flowed into the first one just as easily as the earlier ones flowed into the next. In the end, it felt like he was performing a dance while sitting on the ground. He felt like an idiot, and if he had an audience other than Grace, he probably would have been too embarrassed to continue. ¡°I heard that,¡± Grace said. ¡°Huh?¡± ¡°I can hear, or well, yeah, feel your thoughts about being embarrassed. People who know anything aren¡¯t going to think you¡¯re weird; they¡¯re going to think you¡¯re a sorcerer. They¡¯ll be afraid or respectful of you if they ever see you doing that. We¡¯re not in Seattle anymore, Ward. Besides, it looks kind of cool.¡± Ward grunted and offered her a quick smile; she had been pretty cool lately. ¡°I appreciate the encouragement¡ª¡± Grace cut him off, ¡°Don¡¯t make it weird.¡± Having memorized the various forms and their durations measured in heartbeats, Ward closed his eyes and mentally began to repeat the mantra of the words again. This time, as soon as he found his center, he progressed through the ¡°dance,¡± moving from one form to the next and the next. The change was palpable; he felt the words echo through his mind and resonate with his body as his arms and legs continued to cycle their various positions. He felt a buildup of something like static electricity in his body, vibrating through his bones, tingling under his skin, and echoing in his mind. The words began to come to life within him. When the spell was ready, he knew it, just as Maggie had promised. He could feel it solidify in his mind. The words, ethereal and shifting before, were now solid and bright. When he looked at them¡ªwhen their sound echoed through his mind despite not voicing them¡ªhe had to shy away; they were bright, too bright to stare at. Though the sound wasn¡¯t physical, it was rough and difficult to grasp; he winced at it. Ward stopped his meditation and opened his eyes, and sure enough, he was still aware of the words in his head. They were there; the spell was ready, and he knew it would be until he released it by speaking the words aloud. Maggie had said he¡¯d know if the spell was too much for him, that it would feel like touching a hot coal. It didn¡¯t exactly feel like that; it was more like grasping a coffee mug that was too hot¡ªdifficult to hold, but not enough to really hurt him. ¡°I¡­¡± His voice was hoarse, and his throat was dry. For the first time, he realized the light coming through the window was noticeably dimmer. He cleared his throat, licked his lips, and tried again. ¡°I think I can cast this without killing myself.¡± ¡°You think? Don¡¯t kill yourself because you aren¡¯t sure¡­¡± ¡°I¡¯m sure I won¡¯t die, but I might hurt myself. I should get some of that healing tonic or whatever Haley was talking about.¡± ¡°Yes. Let¡¯s be smart about this. I bet Fan has something she¡¯d sell you. I can¡¯t imagine someone would run an establishment like this without some medical supplies¡­Where are you going?¡± Ward had already clambered to his feet, his limbs quite limber despite his extended time on the floor, thanks to him moving them about while he meditated. He turned back from the doorway. ¡°Going to ask Fan for the tonic.¡± ¡°You know I can¡¯t stay with Haley if you leave, right?¡± ¡°I¡¯ll be fast. She won¡¯t even know I left. Look at her; she¡¯s out of it.¡± Ward wasn¡¯t lying; Haley was dead to the world, her face buried in the pillow, the quilt tucked up under her chin, her mouth hanging open as she breathed deep, steady breaths. Ward nodded, confirming his opinion, and then stepped into the hallway. He found Fan where she always seemed to be, behind the bar, laughing and joking with some of her regulars. When she saw Ward descending the stairs, she waved at him. ¡°Finally up from your nap?¡± When she winked at him, it took a minute for him to realize she was making an innuendo¡ªshe¡¯d sent Haley up to his room hours ago. ¡°I wasn¡¯t napping. Meditating, and yeah, I know it seems strange, but I¡¯m trying to learn a new spell. Haley¡¯s been napping, though; she couldn¡¯t sleep in her house last night.¡± Those words took the sly grin off Fan¡¯s face as she remembered she was talking about a girl who¡¯d just lost her family. ¡°Oh, right. That makes sense. Um, did you want me to send some food up to her?¡± ¡°Nah, we¡¯ll come down in a bit, but I have another request. Do you have a healing tonic or anything like that? I¡¯d like to buy one. You see, this spell I¡¯m trying to learn might harm me, and I just want to be safe¡ª¡± ¡°Harm you?¡± She spoke over him, eyes wide. ¡°What about the inn? You won¡¯t destroy my business, will you?¡± At her words, Ward had a sudden realization about something he¡¯d utterly failed to notice earlier. Now that he¡¯d meditated on the words, processed them through the weird forms, and solidified them in his mind, he knew very well what they meant. Shrovak gnyrath¡ªreveal secrets. He barked a short laugh and shook his head. ¡°Good question, Fan, but no. This spell won¡¯t destroy your inn. The only harm that might come to me is that they are words of power, and my body might not be ready for them.¡± ¡°I have a tonic, sure, but it¡¯s not the best you can buy. It¡¯s enough to stave off a brain bleed or heal cuts and bruises, though. I have it in case there¡¯s a brawl¡­¡± ¡°Perfect. Costly?¡± ¡°Twenty-five glories, if I recall.¡± She began to root around under the counter, and Ward heard the sounds of bottles and glasses clinking against each other. While she looked for the tonic, he dug some glories out of the pocket of his new pants. He slid thirty glories onto the counter, then looked around. ¡°Fay back yet?¡± Fan answered, her voice muffled as she grunted, still rummaging under the bar, ¡°Oh, aye. She and Willard returned hours ago. She was dog-tired, though¡ªsaid she and Willard had to lug a mattress out to the burn pit after they got done scrubbing¡­Aha!¡± She straightened up, holding a clear bottle with a fizzy yellow liquid inside, and stoppered with a cork. ¡°Found it! Anyway, Fay¡¯s napping.¡± ¡°Thanks, Fan.¡± Ward took the bottle and pushed his glories a little closer to her. She scooped them up and smiled. ¡°Don¡¯t hurt yourself! Better to have that and not need it, wouldn¡¯t you say?¡± ¡°Definitely.¡± Ward nodded to the rather inebriated fellow Fan had been speaking to, but he was red-faced, eyes droopy, staring into his cup of booze. Instead, he turned back to Fan. ¡°See you in a bit for some food, okay? I¡¯ll bring Haley.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll be looking for you. I like your new clothes, by the way. You¡¯re a different man in clothes that fit.¡± She winked and picked up a bar rag, moving to wipe up a puddle of spilled booze by another patron. Ward smiled, perhaps a little awkwardly, then hurried upstairs. When he reentered his room, he was relieved to see Haley still sound asleep. As he closed the door, Grace ambushed him with a question, ¡°Are you really going to try that spell right here? What will it do?¡± ¡°It¡¯s meant to reveal secrets¡ª¡± ¡°Seriously? What are the odds?¡± ¡°Huh?¡± ¡°You¡¯re a detective, Ward. What are the odds your first spell is meant to, you know, detect things?¡± ¡°Now that you mention it, I¡¯d have to agree. Pretty weird. I wonder if the catacombs are meant to be more than just random death puzzles and random prizes. Could the magic that controls them also discern something about the people within?¡± He sighed and looked out the window as he set the potion on the little round table. ¡°Neither of us knows, but maybe we''ll learn more if we do another challenge. Damn, it¡¯s getting dark, and I didn¡¯t do any of the errands I¡¯d wanted.¡± ¡°This is more important! Come on, let¡¯s see what kinds of secrets you can uncover about this room!¡± Ward narrowed his eyes at her but had to admit she had a point. The words were there in his head, burning to be let out. It would be so easy just to say them and let them flow off his tongue, releasing the mana, turning it to his will, working real magic. ¡°I¡¯m not sure that¡¯s how it works, but I sure want to try. I hope I¡¯m not wrong about how dangerous it is.¡± ¡°You have the potion. Come on!¡± Grace¡¯s eyes shone, flickering with fire in the dim light coming through the window. ¡°A devil¡¯s telling me to do it. Any angels out there?¡± ¡°I could be an angel for all you know!¡± Grace sighed. Ward looked around the quiet room; the only sound¡ªother than Grace¡¯s protestation¡ªwas Haley¡¯s deep, steady breathing. ¡°No? All right then.¡± He stared at the center of the room, taking as much of it into his view as possible, gathered his breath, and said, ¡°Shrovak gnyrath.¡± 38. Secrets Uncovered 38 ¨C Secrets Uncovered The words shivered and shook their way out of Ward¡¯s mouth, and it felt like they took some of his flesh with them. As they emerged into the world, they cracked and rippled through the air, resounding, sliding over, and caressing the walls, floor, and ceiling. Ward heard them through ears that rang and past a thick fog of pain that exploded in his head¡ªthe worst headache he¡¯d ever felt. The room tinted red as capillaries burst in his eyes, and he shed tears of blood. His body trembled and shook, darkness closed around him, and faintly, he heard Grace cry, ¡°Drink the tonic!¡± His hand shook while he fumbled it off the table, and as he pulled the cork and tilted it toward his mouth, he began to notice the weird magic the spell had wrought. Puddles of greenish-blue, misty light were forming in the room, one near the bathroom door and one in the bed next to Haley. As the tonic, warm, fizzy, and flavored like a tart lemon, slid down his throat and began to work immediate wonders for his headache and the trembling of his fingers, he watched the pools grow and rise up, taking the shapes of translucent, foggy people. The one on the bed stretched to create the forms of two people: a young, skeletally thin woman, her eyes sunken in dark hollows on her blue-green, smoky face. And a man, heavyset, with a long mustache who straddled her. ¡°What the fu¡­¡± Ward trailed off as the man leaned close to the thin woman¡¯s face, and his thick, smoky hands drifted to her neck, grasping it, twisting and squeezing while she thrashed beneath him. Her choked sobs and his feverish grunting came seconds after their weird, ghostly forms mouthed the utterances, echoing up as though from a deep well, muffled by distance and distorted by whatever bizarre passage they traversed. Ward hadn¡¯t noticed at first, but the sound of the spell echoing in the room had woken Haley. Now, as the figures beside her on the bed thrashed and struggled, she leaped up, eyes wide with horror as she took in the strange scene. When they settled on Ward, she cried, ¡°What¡¯s happening?¡± ¡°Stop him!¡± Grace screamed, pushing Ward. He stumbled toward the bed and made to grab the man by the braided knot of hair hanging from the back of his head, but his fingers passed through him like smoke. ¡°They¡¯re not real.¡± He turned to the other figure, which had formed on the floor. ¡°Check him out.¡± He pointed at the man busily prying up a floorboard with the tip of a broad, sharp-looking knife. He walked over to him to get a better view, beginning to form an idea about what was happening; he¡¯d cast a spell to reveal secrets, and it was showing them a couple of things that had happened in that room, things that, for one reason or another, the magic considered secrets. ¡°Ward! What¡¯s happening!¡± Haley asked again, hurrying away from the bed and the ghostly struggle still taking place there. ¡°My spell. It¡¯s revealing secrets. I guess some guy choked a woman in that bed¡ª¡± Ward snapped his mouth shut and hurriedly lifted an arm over Haley¡¯s shoulders, pulling her close. ¡°Never mind that one. Look at this guy. He¡¯s gonna hide something under that floorboard, I bet.¡± ¡°This is freakin¡¯ amazing!¡± Grace cried, walking around the room, obviously struggling to decide which phantasm to pay attention to. ¡°I wonder¡­If that¡¯s a secret,¡± she gestured to the bed, ¡°how did he explain what happened? You should ask Fan about it!¡± ¡°I will, but look!¡± Ward wanted to get Haley¡¯s attention away from the violent struggle in the bed. He thought it was a little too close to what her mom had been through just a day ago, and he didn¡¯t want to trigger some kind of trauma. They watched as the slight, hooded phantom at his feet finally pulled up the floorboard and then deposited a pouch. He pressed the floorboard back into place, pounding the nails back into their holes with the pommel of his knife. Seconds later, the phantasm faded into blue-gray wisps of smoke that disappeared in a handful of seconds. He looked up, saw Grace and Haley both staring at the wooden floor, and jerked his head back to the bed. The man and woman were gone; the mysterious phantom¡¯s crime was once again secret. ¡°Except we saw him.¡± ¡°What?¡± Haley looked back to the bed and then around the room as though she expected more spectral figures to materialize. ¡°Oh, Grace made the point a minute ago that we should ask Fan what happened. I mean, about that woman in the bed. She might know who that guest was. The man might have lied about what happened to her.¡± ¡°You cast the spell? Was it as bad as in the catacombs? Did it almost kill you?¡± She was staring at his face, and Ward reached up to rub his cheeks, sure there were blood trails on them. ¡°No, not as bad. It hurt like hell, and I¡¯m glad I had that tonic, but I don¡¯t think I would¡¯ve died.¡± She stared up at him, peering into his eyes, and Ward had the urge to look away; the look felt almost too intimate. ¡°Well, at least you had plenty of mana. Your eyes are still glowing.¡± ¡°Ah. If I use up my supply, they¡¯ll stop?¡± Ward searched his mind for the magical words he¡¯d spoken, wondering if he still had the spell ready to cast, but it was gone, just fragmented syllables in his memory, parts of words he couldn¡¯t quite remember. Grace replied before Haley could, ¡°Only until you recover. Your mana will never permanently leave you, remember?¡± ¡°Yes, I think so. In all the stories, you can tell when a sorcerer is tired because his or her eyes will stop glowing.¡± Haley nodded, reaching for his face as though to help him with the blood, but she stopped her hand short. Awkwardly, she pulled it back and pointed toward the floor. ¡°What an interesting spell! I wonder what that man was hiding.¡± ¡°Let¡¯s see if it¡¯s still there!¡± Ward laughed, snatching up his knife from the trunk at the foot of the bed. He pulled it from its sheath and knelt by the floorboard. As he worked to slip the tip of the blade between the boards, he saw the old, dust, and grime-filled chips where a knife, sometime in the past, had done the same. When he pushed the blade through and pried the board up, he couldn¡¯t believe his eyes when he saw the stash of valuables in the dusty, cobwebbed space. The pouch was there, but so were several necklaces, rings, and bracelets. ¡°Woah!¡± Grace said, squatting down to look into the gap between joists. ¡°Some thief was using this room as his stash? What are the odds?¡± Haley, too, leaned close. ¡°Why didn¡¯t he ever come back for his treasures? There must be a decade¡¯s dust on those things.¡± ¡°Well, if thieving in this world is anything like back home, I can imagine why he never came back¡ªdead or in prison.¡± Ward reached into the space and gathered up the objects. As he set the various pieces of jewelry on the floorboards, Haley picked them up and started blowing the dust off them. Ward hefted the pouch, grinned at the weight, and shook it, eliciting the tell-tale sound of coins clinking. When he opened it, he found mostly copper glories but half a dozen silver ones. All told, they totaled nearly a hundred. ¡°Well, considering the potion cost me twenty-five glories, I¡¯d say that spell paid for itself a few times over!¡± ¡°This is amazing!¡± Haley breathed, turning a golden ring set with several tiny, precious-looking green gemstones. Grace made a humming sound, watching Haley admire the ring. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t expect to find a treasure like that every time the spell¡¯s cast. As I said, this is a pretty big coincidence¡­¡± ¡°Yeah, I know, Grace.¡± Ward winked at Haley. ¡°She says I shouldn¡¯t expect to find a treasure every time I cast that spell.¡± Haley giggled. ¡°No, I¡¯d say you were lucky this time.¡± Ward was happy to see her smiling, and he was glad the murder in the bed wasn¡¯t the only secret revealed about the room. He slipped the floorboard back into place, and, just as the thief had done in the weird spectral vision, he pounded the two nails in with the hilt of his knife. ¡°How about we grab something to eat, Haley?¡± ¡°I¡¯m starving!¡± She jumped to her feet, holding out her fist full of jewelry to Ward. He walked over to his pack and opened a side pocket. ¡°Just dump ¡®em in here for now.¡± She dumped them into the pocket, but he saw she still gripped the one with the green gemstones in her other hand, and before she could put it into the pack, he stopped her. ¡°You like that one?¡± Haley held up the little gold ring. Ward figured it might fit his pinky, but it looked just right for one of her thin fingers. The three green stones were tiny, probably not worth much at all, but it was a pretty thing. ¡°I like it, but¡ª¡± ¡°Just keep it. This is all a windfall, anyway. Besides, we¡¯re celebrating; I learned my first spell!¡± Ward grinned and buttoned up the pack, then picked up his coat. ¡°I¡¯m hungry!¡± ¡°Wash your face, dummy. You have blood coming out of your ears.¡± That wiped his smile away. ¡°Grace just called me a dummy and told me to wash my face.¡± Haley laughed, but she didn¡¯t look at him. She turned the ring between her fingers, studying it. ¡°I¡¯ll wait here. Thank you for the ring, Ward.¡± You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author. ¡°Don¡¯t mention it.¡± Ward went into the bathroom and, as Grace suggested, washed the blood off his face and ears. While he was at it, his personal devil badgered him, ¡°You think it¡¯s smart giving rings to girls?¡± ¡°It¡¯s not like that.¡± ¡°I know, I know, you¡¯re just sharing the loot, but you know girls have funny feelings about jewelry. Don¡¯t give her the wrong idea. That¡¯s all I¡¯m saying.¡± Ward dried his face on a hand towel and looked at her, narrowing his eyes. ¡°You worried about her or me?¡± ¡°Definitely her!¡± He laughed and threw the towel on the counter. ¡°Man, your tune has sure changed.¡± ¡°She¡¯s starting to remind me of Verity, and I hate to see all the suffering she¡¯s going through.¡± ¡°Relax, Grace. I agree.¡± Ward walked out of the bathroom to find Haley standing where he left her, eyes vacantly staring at the window. ¡°You ready?¡± ¡°Hmm?¡± She jerked her gaze toward him, and he could tell he¡¯d broken her out of some deep thoughts. ¡°Yes!¡± She held up her left hand to display the ring on her pointer finger. ¡°Fits!¡± ¡°Ah, nice. If you need money, don¡¯t feel bad about selling it, though.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t.¡± She smiled, walked to the door, and opened it. ¡°Food¡¯s good here?¡± ¡°Yeah, Fan¡¯s a great cook.¡± Ward followed her, and a few minutes later, they were sitting in the common room at a table near the fire, waiting as Fayella finished speaking to some customers near the door. When she came near the table, Haley surprised Ward when she jumped up and grabbed her into a hug. ¡°Fay! Thank you so much for cleaning that¡­mess for me. I couldn¡¯t bear to go back upstairs all day.¡± ¡°It¡¯s nothing! Willard did most of the work, and he thought it was easy compared to what Fan puts him through here at the inn.¡± ¡°I know that¡¯s not true, but thank you for saying it.¡± Haley gave her another squeeze, then sat back down. ¡°Well!¡± Fay said, grinning at Ward, ¡°Don¡¯t you look handsome! What a difference! I¡¯m used to you resembling a wandering vagabond down on his luck, but here you are, clean and wearing fine, tailored clothing. I¡¯m not sure if I should curtsey and address you as milord or¡ª¡± ¡°All right, all right. That¡¯s enough of that.¡± Ward laughed and gestured to Haley. ¡°Don¡¯t keep the poor woman starving, Fay. How about something good to eat, hmm?¡± ¡°Of course, fine sir!¡± She curtsied and turned to saunter toward the kitchen. After a few steps, she stopped and turned, ¡°Any objection to the house menu, milord?¡± Haley snorted, and Ward sighed. ¡°Whatever you suggest, fair maiden.¡± His words brought a bark of laughter out of Fay, and she left the room blushing. There were probably fifteen or so other patrons in the common room, and it was pretty noisy, so no one paid them any attention. Ward looked to the little raised platform in the corner where a band had been playing the last couple of nights, but it didn¡¯t look like anyone was setting up. ¡°No music tonight?¡± Haley followed his gaze. ¡°Is there usually?¡± ¡°Well, they¡¯ve been crowded, as you can see.¡± Ward waved his hand around the room. ¡°I guess there¡¯s a festival going on, right? Anyway, yeah, since we¡¯ve been back, they¡¯ve had a band playing in the evenings.¡± ¡°Oh, right. Harvest Fest.¡± Haley looked down, and Ward saw her lip begin to tremble. He could tell she was looking at a painful memory. ¡°My brother and I used to love¡­¡± When she hesitated, and Ward heard her voice begin to tremble even more, he spoke over her, ¡°Hey, don¡¯t think about that right now. Give yourself a little time. Let¡¯s talk about something else. How about Gopah? Wanna tell me about that? I noticed your hands weren¡¯t hot today. Is it hard to charge them up?¡± ¡°Hmm? Charge them up? That¡¯s a fun way of thinking of it.¡± Haley smiled and clasped her hands together, rubbing her thumbs over each other. ¡°It¡¯s not hard. I just didn¡¯t do my forms this morning.¡± ¡°Ah, good to know.¡± Ward nodded, suddenly feeling awkward, like he had to fill the silence to keep her mind off her family tragedy. He decided to turn the conversation toward their next destination. ¡°What¡¯s north of here?¡± ¡°Many places! I suppose, most commonly, when people go north from Tarnish, they¡¯re heading to Port Granite.¡± She frowned. ¡°Are you wondering about Nevkin?¡± ¡°Yeah. Any challenges near there?¡± ¡°Not that I¡¯ve heard of, and, them being only a few days away by caravan, I¡¯d think I¡¯d have heard. Still, there¡¯s a railway hub there, and I know there are challenges to the east, bigger towns and cities, too.¡± ¡°Ah! Really? Maybe that¡¯s why Nevkin took off that way. Hopefully, I¡¯ll get a few more answers out of that Foyle character, assuming it was Nevkin who put him up to, you know, his bad behavior.¡± Ward paused and looked around to see if people were listening to him. When he didn¡¯t see any patrons looking their way, he added, ¡°I think I¡¯ll pay him a visit tonight, get the jump on him, so to speak.¡± ¡°My wrist isn¡¯t fully mended¡ª¡± ¡°Yeah, I know. You¡¯re staying here.¡± Haley scowled furiously. ¡°Ward, I¡ª¡± ¡°Uh-uh, listen! You¡¯ve had a rotten couple of days, and, as you know, you¡¯re not exactly even-tempered right now. I think I¡¯ll get more done if I¡¯m alone, and I honestly don¡¯t think it would be good for you to be involved. Do you trust me?¡± Capping his statement with that question was a dirty trick, but it worked. Haley¡¯s scowl evened out, and she reached up to cover her eyes with a hand, clearly trying to avoid looking at him directly. ¡°I trust you. I¡­I¡¯m worried, however. If something happened to you, too, so soon after¡­¡± As she trailed off, suddenly Grace was standing next to her chair, wrapping an arm over Haley¡¯s shoulders. ¡°You better reassure her, old man.¡± Ward scowled at Grace, but he reached over the table to grab Haley¡¯s free hand, the one she wasn¡¯t hiding behind. ¡°Hey. Hey, cut it out. I¡¯m going to be fine. I¡¯m a tricky old bastard; it¡¯s not me you should be worried about.¡± ¡°Why do you do that? Call yourself old?¡± ¡°I mean, I¡¯m not really old, but compared to you, I am. I¡¯ve been through some shit, all right?¡± He chuckled and changed the subject, ¡°Grace is hugging you right now. I bet she wishes you could feel it.¡± Haley dropped her hand, and her eyes opened wide, her embarrassment forgotten. ¡°She is?¡± ¡°Yeah. Problem is, only I can feel her. I guess that must get old pretty fast.¡± Ward directed the last statement toward Grace. She sighed. ¡°It does, Ward. I could feel it if you hugged her, though. I can feel her hand in yours.¡± ¡°She wants you to know she can feel your hand in mine. I guess since she¡¯s, well, living in me, it works like that.¡± ¡°I can tell you¡¯re trying to keep me from arguing with you, but Ward, remember what I said about Foyle having bodyguards?¡± ¡°Yeah, I remember. Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯m not stupid. I¡¯ll take a look, see what I can see, and if I can get to him, I¡¯ll do it. If I can¡¯t, then I¡¯ll do some more planning, all right?¡± Haley nodded, and he could see she wanted to say something more, but further discussion on the topic was forestalled by the arrival of Fan carrying a tray of food and Fay following behind with a tray of drinks. Fay paused to drop most of the drinks off at another table while Fan set the plates of smoked ham, vegetables, and fresh-baked bread in front of Ward and Haley. ¡°Looks great!¡± Ward rubbed his hands together. ¡°I hope so! I¡¯m glad to see you didn¡¯t blow yourself up. Did your magic work?¡± ¡°Oh yeah! It did, and I have a question for you.¡± ¡°Really?¡± ¡°Yep. Did a very thin woman die in the room I¡¯m staying in? She would have been staying with a middle-aged, heavyset man with a long mustache and long hair that he wore in a braid¡ª¡± ¡°Yes! When I was much younger and working here as a serving girl!¡± Fan pulled out one of the empty chairs and sat down as Fay arrived with their drinks. She continued, ¡°The woman was a noble lady from the Golden Bounds. If I recall, she was on her way north to seek treatment for a wasting disease. It was something of a local scandal when she died in her sleep. Her brother, that¡¯s the man you described, departed the next day with her body. I believe he returned home, canceling their journey.¡± ¡°Huh.¡± Ward debated describing what he¡¯d seen in his vision, but before he could weigh the pros and cons, Haley spoke up. ¡°Ward¡¯s magic uncovered the truth: That man strangled her!¡± ¡°Truly?¡± Fan¡¯s eyes almost bugged out of her head, and Fay nearly spilled a pitcher of beer, dropping it with a sloshing splash that splattered Ward¡¯s plate. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry!¡± Fay reached for his plate, but Ward stopped her. ¡°It¡¯s fine. It¡¯ll probably taste even better now.¡± He nodded toward Haley and Fan. ¡°Yep, that¡¯s true. I don¡¯t have any evidence, and the crime is pretty old, so I don¡¯t think we can do much about it, but yeah, it¡¯s true.¡± He shrugged and took a big drink of his frosty ale. He supposed that if he were being truly good, he¡¯d tell Fan and Fay about the thief¡¯s stash he¡¯d found, but Haley didn¡¯t mention it, and neither did he. They¡¯d need money in their pursuit of Nevkin and their hunt for more challenges. It wasn¡¯t like those things had been stolen recently, nor that they belonged to anyone he knew. ¡°I wish we could do something. What a shame.¡± Fan sighed and stood. ¡°Let¡¯s leave ¡®em to their meal, Fay.¡± Ward saw Fay¡¯s eyes dart from him to Haley and back again, and it seemed she was a little reluctant to leave, but she nodded and started away. ¡°Fay!¡± Haley reached out and grabbed her wrist before she could leave. ¡°Hmm?¡± ¡°Do you want to join us? Ward¡¯s going out to handle some errands soon, and I could use the company.¡± ¡°I am?¡± Ward chuckled and shook his head. ¡°I mean, yeah, I am.¡± ¡°Fan?¡± Fay asked, looking imploringly at her aunt. ¡°Oh, go ahead. I¡¯ve been working alone most of the day; you might as well have the evening off.¡± ¡°Thank you, Auntie!¡± Fay hugged her, and Ward laughed. The laugh felt good, and his smile broadened further when he saw the spark of happiness in Haley¡¯s eyes as she watched the two women embrace. It was good, he supposed, that Fay would be around to keep Haley company. He¡¯d talk her into staying at the inn for the night while he cleaned things up at her house, and then he¡¯d pay Foyle a visit. He was feeling good after his success with the spell, and he couldn¡¯t see himself sleeping anytime soon, anyway. No, he decided, it was time to take the offensive on these thugs¡ªtime to get some real answers. 39. Nightwork 39 ¨C Nightwork Ward grunted, driving the narrow shovel into the soft soil again, throwing the black dirt onto the growing pile. The shovel¡ªor maybe ¡°spade,¡± was a more appropriate term¡ªhad an annoyingly short handle and a blade flatter and narrower than the modern one sitting in the corner of his garage back on Earth. ¡°Garage,¡± Ward chuckled, digging out another hunk of dirt. He hadn¡¯t thought about the little house he¡¯d worked so long to buy since coming to this strange world. ¡°You losing it, old man?¡± Grace was leaning nonchalantly against the trunk of a nearby fruit tree. ¡°Nah, just thinking about shovels, which made me think of my place back on Earth. Probably gonna get foreclosed.¡± ¡°Speaking of foreclosures, you¡¯re sure sticking your neck out for that girl.¡± ¡°Oh, don¡¯t start with me! You¡¯ve been fawning all over her since she showed up at the inn.¡± Ward snorted a short bark of a laugh and added, ¡°What¡¯s that got to do with foreclosures?¡± Grace made a sound that was half groan and half sigh. ¡°I don¡¯t know. I was grasping with that one, I guess.¡± She walked around the hole as Ward threw out another shovel full of dirt. ¡°Deep enough, don¡¯t you think?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t want it to smell in a few days; it¡¯s gotta be a few feet deep.¡± ¡°Lucky they don¡¯t have much in the way of forensics in this world, eh? I suppose even if someone found the body in a week, they¡¯d struggle to pin it on Haley.¡± Ward kept digging, thinking about the comment. It was probably true, but, on the other hand, he had no idea what the justice system was like. Maybe all it would take was an accusation and the guards feeling strongly that Haley did it. Maybe they¡¯d drag her down the jail and twist screws into her bones until she begged to confess. He shuddered. ¡°Hope you¡¯re right.¡± Twenty minutes later, he was tamping moist black dirt down atop the hole and spreading the leftovers evenly over the ground in the vicinity. He figured one good rain or snow and the burial site would be hard to spot. He put the shovel and rake away, scraped his boots in the grass and gravel, then quietly walked through the house, ensuring he¡¯d put everything back in place and extinguished all the lights. He hadn¡¯t heard a peep from the neighbors, nor had he seen anyone on the street in the neighborhood. He hoped his luck would hold and he¡¯d get out of there and on his way to the southern end of town without encountering anyone. His wishful thinking didn¡¯t pan out, though, because he¡¯d just locked the door and started down the front steps when he heard the crunch of gravel scraping on a steppingstone. He jerked his head up and reached for the grip of his .357 with its single bullet. He¡¯d just wrapped his hand around the burled walnut grips when he caught sight of a hulking shadow to the right of the cobbled path lurking beside a dark shrub. Ward started to pull the gun from the holster when, with a whistle of air, the figure swung something much like a baseball bat at his head. Ward jerked on the gun and pulled it free but had to lift that arm to block the club. It struck his elbow with a resounding crack, and his hand spasmed, dropping the gun. Ward grunted as his arm exploded with shooting pain, like bolts of electric lava shooting toward his fingers. His assailant had smashed that bat right into the bundle of nerves in his elbow. ¡°You son of¡ª¡± ¡°Move!¡± For at least the third time, Grace saved Ward¡¯s ass by shoving him. He stumbled forward, and the bat, coming up on the backswing, just missed his right ear. Ward had had enough. He hated getting sucker punched, and this was the second time in as many nights that someone had tried to jump him. He pivoted on his right foot, stepped with his left, and brought his uninjured fist around in wild haymaker of a left hook. He caught the guy just under the chin, and Ward felt his rough, short beard grind on his knuckles as they dug in, shutting the man¡¯s mouth with a resounding clack. The punch must have hit him right on the button because the big dark-haired fellow fell like a load of bricks, crumbling to the pavement, limbs loose, body twitching in a post-trauma seizure. Ward shook his right hand, flexing his fingers open and closed while he watched the guy flop around. The attacker¡¯s eyes rolled back in his head, and Ward had the weird sensation of feeling both vindicated and guilty at the same time. He¡¯d wanted to put the guy down, and he¡¯d surely deserved it, but he hated to see that weird autonomic response to the trauma he¡¯d inflicted on his brain. As the feeling returned to his numb hand, he reached down, scooped up his gun, and stuck it back in the holster. The guy stopped twitching, and Ward bent over to pull up his shirt, exposing his pale, barrel-like torso. He had sparse, dark hair on his chest and belly, and there, just below the ribs on his right side, were the dark purple scars in the exact pattern Haley had shown him. ¡°That¡¯s the guy!¡± Grace cried, thumping Ward on the shoulder in her enthusiasm. ¡°Look at his hands!¡± Ward followed her pointing finger, and sure enough, he saw the black tell-tale stains left behind from working with pitch or tar. ¡°Yep. Dirty fucker was coming here to finish the job, I¡¯ll wager.¡± Ward jerked the guy¡¯s shirt back down, then reached up to feel the murderer¡¯s neck. He didn¡¯t seem to be breathing, but Ward had never killed a guy with a single punch before, so it seemed a little hard to believe. He pressed his fingers against his carotid, looking for his heartbeat, but he didn¡¯t find anything. ¡°Son of a bitch! I killed him.¡± ¡°Shh! The shrubs aren¡¯t very thick out front here.¡± ¡°Well, it was self-defense. You saw that, right?¡± ¡°Of course, Ward. Do you want to trust the medieval legal system in this town?¡± ¡°We don¡¯t know that it¡¯s that bad¡­¡± Ward knelt there, in the dark, beside the killer¡¯s body. Haley hadn¡¯t wanted him to kill the guy, not without knowing the reason for his actions. He had to hope Foyle had sent him just like the two who¡¯d come for Ward in the alley. Thinking that way got his brain moving, and he started rifling through the dead man¡¯s pockets. He came up with a pouch with two shiny, fifty-glory coins, along with a slip of paper that read ¡°24 Ripple Lane.¡± Ward frowned. ¡°That¡¯s Haley¡¯s house, right?¡± ¡°Yes, there¡¯s a twenty-four on the fence out front, and the street sign at the corner says ¡®Ripple Lane.¡¯¡± Ward gave Grace an appraising look. ¡°You can remember those details?¡± ¡°I remember almost everything you see. I told you that! I mean, you knew it, too¡ªyou¡¯re good at spotting little details.¡± ¡°Right. I guess.¡± Ward looked back down at the body, saw a hilt poking out from behind his back, and pulled it free. The blade was about eight inches long, narrow, and double-edged. ¡°Guess this is the blade he stabbed Haley and her parents with. I suppose she might want it.¡± He tapped the flat of the blade against his palm while he contemplated, then, sighing, stood up. He tucked the knife into his boot, hoisted the body onto his shoulder, and turned back to the house. ¡°Guess I¡¯m not done digging for the night.¡± ¡°You¡¯re going to bury him?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t want to tip Foyle off. I don¡¯t want the guards to overreact and lock me up or something. Best if he just disappears.¡± Grace didn¡¯t argue, and Ward spent another thirty minutes digging in Haley¡¯s backyard. He was surprised at how easy it was to dig another big hole. The soil was soft, but not enough to explain it. Ward had to face the reality that he was not only younger and healthier than when he¡¯d left Earth but also a good deal stronger and fitter. He''d seen himself naked in the mirror back at the inn; he could see the definition of his muscles. He''d tried to chalk it up to being younger and going without any food while his body slumbered, but the truth was, the numbers reported by the hemograph were more than just numbers¡ªhis body was strong and quick. He¡¯d hit that guy hard¡ªmuch harder than intended. Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. He¡¯d removed his jacket and shirt while he dug, doing the work in his new undershirt. When he was finished, he sat that way in the cool night air on Haley¡¯s back stoop to let the heat seep out of his body. He stared up at the dark sky, trying to find the stars through the city''s light pollution, but the proliferation of gas lamps gave Tarnish quite a glow. The best he could do was pick out a couple of the brighter, moon-like orbs that Grace thought were other planets in the Vainglory System. ¡°It¡¯s really something that the other planets are so close. Well, at least two of ¡®em.¡± ¡°The Vainglory worlds all orbit the sun at similar distances. I think I remember reading that one or two of the planets are technically moons; when they passed too close to other worlds in the distant past, they got pulled into a weird, shared orbit where they kind of circle each other as they rotate around the sun.¡± ¡°So they¡¯re both moons?¡± ¡°And planets, depending on how you look at it.¡± ¡°Probably a technical term for it¡­¡± ¡°Perhaps, but none of my hosts were astrophysicists.¡± Grace rubbed her upper arms and shivered. ¡°Brr, Ward! Get your shirt on; you¡¯re plenty cooled down.¡± ¡°Heh, right.¡± He¡¯d stopped sweating a while ago. As he stood, though, reaching for his shirt where he¡¯d hung it over the stoop railing, he noticed a flicker of light in his peripheral vision. When he turned toward it, he saw that a thin, wispy cloud of mana had begun to form above the gravesite of the erstwhile thug and killer. ¡°Aha,¡± he muttered, stepping down from the stoop and walking toward the fresh-raked, black soil. ¡°What?¡± ¡°Mana.¡± Ward crouched, his feet still on the cobbled path so he didn¡¯t have to clean his boots again, and stretched out his right hand, holding it just above the ground so the cloud of sparkling blue motes surrounded it. He closed his eyes and focused on his breathing, and almost immediately, he felt the tingles as some of the mana began to flow into his hand. As his awareness of the world around him expanded, Ward braced himself in anticipation of the rush and sense of euphoria that had hit him the last couple of times. Unfortunately, it seemed he was still close to the limit he¡¯d reached the night before when he¡¯d absorbed mana from the guy he''d killed in the alley. Only a dozen or so of the motes made their way into him. He opened his eyes and waved his hand through the cloud again, but that was it; he was done. ¡°Something wrong?¡± Grace was standing close, leaning forward, looking into his eyes. ¡°Nah, I just didn¡¯t absorb much mana this time. Kind of like the first time you showed me.¡± ¡°Makes sense, though, right? You just got a big boost yesterday. That was after sleeping away a month of your life.¡± Ward stood, nodded, and brushed his hands off. ¡°Yeah. If I¡¯m going to advance again quickly, I¡¯ll need to find another refinement, right?¡± ¡°A refinement or something like it. I¡¯m starting to learn that I don¡¯t know much about this stuff, either. Who knows what other methods there are for improving this vessel of ours.¡± ¡°Ours?¡± Ward snorted, shaking his head. ¡°Hey, I don¡¯t make the rules. We¡¯re both in here, right?¡± Grace reached up and tapped his forehead with her pointer finger. It felt so real, she seemed so real, that when Ward thought about it, really let the whole thing sink in, he began to feel a little crazy again. Rather than allow that, rather than dwell on the person living in his head, Ward turned back to the stoop and turned his mind toward the pouch of golden glories and the note with Haley¡¯s address. ¡°We need to head out.¡± A short time later, he was back in his shirt, his coat, and his wide-brimmed hat, strolling down the avenue toward the south side of town. He¡¯d added a new piece of equipment to his ensemble¡ªthe smooth hardwood club the killer had tried to mash his brains out with. It was pretty similar in shape to a baseball bat, but a little shorter, a little narrower at the end, and a good deal heavier. Ward frowned, thinking about that, trying to remember what kind of wood bats were made from. ¡°Ash, I think.¡± Ward slapped the club in his palm. ¡°This feels more like oak or something even denser.¡± ¡°What are you going on about?¡± ¡°This club. It¡¯s hard as hell, and I can¡¯t believe my elbow didn¡¯t shatter when I blocked that guy¡¯s swing.¡± ¡°It¡¯s the mana, dummy. According to Maggie¡¯s thingy, your durability is halfway to tier three. Your bones are hard. Your muscles are strong, and you¡¯re just generally more robust than a normal person.¡± She nodded, narrowing her eyes as she looked him up and down. ¡°Yeah. Those last couple of collections really pumped you up. All that sleep back in the catacombs allowed your body to process it. Or did it let the mana process your body? Hah, I don¡¯t know how it works exactly.¡± Ward twirled the club with his wrist while he strolled down the street, and he chuckled when he saw a couple of men cross to walk on the opposite side of the road. It wasn¡¯t yet midnight, and there were still quite a few revelers out and about, so he quit goofing around and held the bat on his shoulder. He kept the brim of his hat pulled low as he walked, obscuring the top half of his face in shadow. The city watch didn¡¯t seem to be on top of things unless you happened to leave a body lying in the street, but he didn¡¯t want to risk people mentioning him walking around on the south side of town, not with the way his night had been going. ¡°What¡¯s your plan with Foyle?¡± ¡°Figure I¡¯m about done being jumped by these guys. Think I¡¯ll put an end to this business.¡± ¡°That¡¯s your plan?¡± ¡°Yeah, I suppose. I¡¯ll do the jumping tonight.¡± Ward had gotten detailed directions from Fay; he knew exactly how to find Foyle¡¯s offices and what the building looked like. Fay had been in there before. She¡¯d lost money at a derby or two but never enough to get herself into trouble. She¡¯d mentioned that¡ªthe trouble part. It seemed Foyle wasn¡¯t too easygoing on people who were late with payments. Worse, most of the guards owed him one way or another, and they didn¡¯t get in his way when it came time to collect on debts, which was one of the main reasons Ward wasn¡¯t going to them for help. ¡°Focus, Ward, focus.¡± He drummed his fingers on the haft of the club as he walked, trying to get his mind back on track. Foyle¡¯s building was a two-story brick ¡°shophouse,¡± which was the common way to describe a business with an attached dwelling. Fay said Foyle had a sitting room by the front door where clients waited and then an office down a short hallway. She said there were other doors, but they were always closed, and she¡¯d never been upstairs. When Ward asked her how many guys he usually had on duty, she¡¯d shrugged and said, of the dozen men standing around out front or sitting in the lobby, it was anyone¡¯s guess which ones were working for Foyle and which ones were just hanging around for the dubious company. ¡°Of course, she¡¯d only been there in the daytime.¡± ¡°Huh?¡± Grace glanced at him sideways again. ¡°You mean Fay?¡± ¡°Yeah. She said Foyle had a dozen guys hanging around when she went there, but maybe there¡¯s fewer at night.¡± ¡°Or more.¡± ¡°Right. What do you think? Reckon there¡¯s a back door?¡± ¡°I¡¯d think there¡¯ll be an alley. Look at these units we¡¯re passing right now.¡± She pointed to the tall brick buildings on the right. Ward nodded in agreement; buildings faced each street, and they backed up to each other, leaving an open alley between them. ¡°Yeah, we¡¯re getting close. I bet they¡¯re the same.¡± He¡¯d noticed that the further south they went in Tarnish, the narrower the streets got. The buildings were smaller and more crowded, and it was evident the sewers were a bit more strained¡ªdark puddles gathered near street grates, and the odor was less than fresh. ¡°Here¡¯s where I need to go to be reminded that this place isn¡¯t a utopia.¡± ¡°You thought it was? After getting jumped?¡± ¡°Nah¡ªbefore that. When I was fresh back from the catacombs and watching happy families walking past the inn heading to the festival.¡± ¡°Well, so long as you realize that¡¯s not the norm.¡± ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m getting that. I think I might have been a little buzzed. You notice they drink a lot more around here than back home?¡± ¡°Probably safer than the water.¡± ¡°Hah! Maybe. Oh shit, hush. This is the street.¡± Ward slowed down and approached the next corner more warily, looking around, taking stock of the people walking on the street or lingering near the corner. ¡°You know, I don¡¯t need to hush. Only you can hear¡ª¡± ¡°Yeah, but it makes me want to talk, so hush.¡± Ward had asked Fay if she knew what other sorts of businesses were near the ¡°bet-taker¡¯s¡± offices, but she couldn¡¯t remember for certain. She thought one might be a tavern and was fairly sure a market was nearby. Ward figured that gave him plenty of cover if he needed a reason to be walking on the street. So, with his hat pulled down, obscuring his eyes, and the hard, heavy club on his shoulder, he rounded the corner confidently, scanning the street and scoping out the scene. 40. Cracking Skulls 40 ¨C Cracking Skulls Chiselhammer Lane was a good deal busier than most of the other streets Ward had walked through that night. It had to be getting close to midnight, but he saw groups of young men in heavy coats standing here and there, many of them smoking something from pipes that glowed in the dim light thrown out by the amber-glassed streetlights. Fay had been right in her recollection that a tavern was on the street. It was across the road and a good fifty yards from him, but he could hear the carousing going on in there¡ªit sounded like a men¡¯s choir at practice with lots of laughter thrown in for good measure. His dark coat and hat weren¡¯t out of place among the men who leaned against buildings, watching this stoop or that. It took him a minute to realize he didn¡¯t see any ladies, or at least not any obvious ones. It might not have registered if he hadn¡¯t finally set his eyes on a pair of women in bright skirts and flimsy tops, little more than camisoles, standing near an alley just past the bar. He was comfortable in his woolen jacket, but he couldn¡¯t imagine they weren¡¯t freezing dressed the way they were. ¡°Prostitutes,¡± Grace said, following his gaze. ¡°I guess.¡± Ward didn¡¯t have the bandwidth to think about them; he¡¯d just spotted Foyle¡¯s shop across the street. The front of the building bore some of the largest windows on the block, and they¡¯d been painted in gold leaf, fanciful lettering to read ¡°Foyle¡¯s Insurance Offices¡± and in smaller lettering, ¡°Edgar J. Foyle, Proprietor.¡± Three men sat on the shop¡¯s front stoop, but only a dim interior light illuminated the window. It didn¡¯t look like Foyle was open for business. Ward kept his head down and walked past a group of young men throwing dice on the sidewalk. He''d made it a few steps past when one of them loudly said, ¡°Look at this dandy.¡± It was obvious he¡¯d meant for Ward to hear. He tried to keep walking, ignoring the kid¡¯s taunt, but he could hear the scuffle of boots on stone and knew the men were standing up. ¡°Hey! We know you?¡± a different, deeper voice called. Ward sighed, more annoyed than anything else that he¡¯d been noticed. He turned to face the four men, tilting his head up so his eyes shone out from under the dark brim of his hat. ¡°You want to know me?¡± When they saw the pale glow of his eyes in the shadows under his hat¡ªwhen they heard the thinly veiled threat in his tone¡ªthe men suddenly had a bunch of other things to be looking at. The young, reedy-voiced one turned and sat down, muttering something like, ¡°My mistake,¡± and the others were quick to follow suit. Apparently, a sorcerer walking around near midnight with a cudgel on his shoulder wasn¡¯t something they wanted to investigate. Ward didn¡¯t hesitate to turn and start walking again; so far, the men outside Foyle¡¯s shop hadn¡¯t reacted, and he wanted to keep it that way. There were two buildings past Foyle¡¯s before another street intersected with Chiselhammer Lane, so he angled for the corner on the far side, calmly crossing the street. When he¡¯d reached the opposite curb, stepping over the open street gutter, he glanced to his left to see if the three men on Foyle¡¯s stoop had reacted. They hadn¡¯t; they all sat leaning against one railing or the other, and if Ward were guessing, he¡¯d say they were more asleep than awake. He saw Grace following his glance as he rounded the corner. ¡°Probably hired as night security, but I doubt they ever have to do anything.¡± ¡°Are we talking again?¡± ¡°Did you ever stop?¡± ¡°What? You¡¯re mad I mentioned the prostitutes?¡± ¡°Nah, but I''d have been annoyed if I really had to concentrate.¡± Ward slowed his steps because he¡¯d gotten to the rear of the building on the corner and could see an opening for an alley. He glanced at Grace, saw her scowl, and sighed. ¡°Don¡¯t get all sensitive on me. I know you¡¯re a lot more observant than I am, and I appreciate your help, okay?¡± A slow smile crept over her lips. ¡°You think I¡¯m more observant than you are?¡± ¡°Well, you remember more of what you see. How about that?¡± He watched her process the sparse compliment and then stepped up to the corner of the brick building, peering into the dark alley. Just as he¡¯d suspected, it was cluttered with old crates and refuse, but he saw some light halfway down, right about where Foyle¡¯s building would be. ¡°Wish I could make myself invisible. What kind of magic world doesn¡¯t have invisibility?¡± ¡°I¡¯m sure there are spells for that. I doubt your body could handle them, though.¡± ¡°Uh-huh.¡± They¡¯d been whispering, but Ward held a finger to his lips and stepped into the alley, crouching low and creeping toward a stack of small wooden crates behind the first building. When he reached it, he could see the dark recess where a closed metal door would allow access to the building. He began to think his plan might work¡ªif this building had a back door, Foyle¡¯s probably did, too. He edged around the stack of crates to look down the alley, and sure enough, he could just make out a bulky shadow of a man as he shifted under the flickering amber gas lamp on the back of the third building. Lurking there, in the cold night air, some kind of moldy melon rind by his right boot, Ward considered how impulsive he was being. He¡¯d told Haley he¡¯d check Foyle out, but he hadn¡¯t said anything about storming the guy¡¯s offices. What if he got overwhelmed and had to run? What if he killed one of the guys guarding the door? It could happen¡ªhe¡¯d certainly not intended to kill the one who¡¯d jumped him at Haley¡¯s house. Thinking of that reminded him why he''d come, however. He was tired of being on the defensive. He was tired of looking over his shoulder. When it came down to it, he wasn¡¯t okay with the idea that a guy was sitting snugly in his office while men he¡¯d paid were stalking Ward and Haley, killing people in the process. Ward scanned the alley between him and the back of Foyle¡¯s place, looking for another place to hide, and came up empty. The building between had nothing behind it, just a closed metal door on a brick wall. ¡°Well,¡± he whispered, ¡°I guess it¡¯s just about go time.¡± ¡°Are you sure about this?¡± ¡°Not really, but yeah, I¡¯m ready to see this business settled.¡± Ward reached down and picked up one of the larger empty crates, holding the club to the side, away from the view of anyone on his left. Then he started walking, whistling a meaningless tune as he strolled down the alley. He¡¯d only made it a dozen feet when a gruff voice called, ¡°Wrong way, chum.¡± ¡°What¡¯s ¡®at?¡± Ward asked, trying to put a bit of a slur into his voice. ¡°Turn around. This ain¡¯t the alley for you.¡± ¡°Jus¡¯ gettin¡¯ a box for m¡¯ kittens.¡± Ward couldn¡¯t help the stupid grin on his face as he played the drunk cat lover. He purposefully stumbled toward the light, crying, ¡°Oh, whoops! Grab it, would¡®ya?¡± ¡°Stupid shit!¡± the gruff voice growled, and Ward felt some resistance as the bulky man stepped out of the shadows and grabbed ahold of the crate. He shoved it viciously, and Ward probably would have fallen backward if he hadn¡¯t already let go and stepped to the side, his hickory cudgel lifted high. With a whoosh and a resounding thunk, Ward clubbed the big guy on the forehead, knocking him back, gasping, as a split in his scalp began to sheet blood down into his eyes. This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there. ¡°What the¡ª¡± The second guy never finished his sentence. Ward was on him, cracking the brutal wooden cudgel against his head, just above the ear, and following it up with a series of savage cracks to his neck, shoulder, and arms as he fell. Ward whirled on the first guy and saw him fumbling at his belt to detach an axe hooked to a metal stud via a leather loop. His fingers weren¡¯t doing what he wanted them to do, though, and he kept swiping at his eyes with his other hand, trying to clear the blood away. Ward could tell he was dazed, probably only half-conscious, and he stepped over him and delivered another resounding crack to the side of his head, putting an end to his efforts. ¡°Jesus, Ward.¡± Grace was standing on the stoop, under the light, staring at the two unmoving figures. ¡°Are they dead?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know, but if not, I¡¯d say the fight¡¯s out of ¡®em.¡± Ward looked past Grace to the metal door, saw the big brass keyhole above the latch, and reached for it, pulling. Just as he¡¯d suspected, it was locked. ¡°You think Foyle gives his guards a key?¡± He squatted and began to pat at the pockets of the burly guard. ¡°Maybe. I wouldn¡¯t, but I¡¯m not a ¡®bet-taker.¡¯ He might have a reason to give them access to the business.¡± ¡°We¡¯ll see.¡± Ward grunted as he jerked the big man to the side to get at his coat pocket. He had a prodigious belly, and unconscious or dead as he was, he was difficult to shift. He smelled like onions and sweat, and when Ward stuck his hand in his pocket, he immediately regretted it, pulling out a crusty, wadded handkerchief. He spent more time than he would have liked searching the two men and came up with only a handful of glories, two pipes, some kind of pipeweed, and a flask of something that smelled like paint thinner. ¡°Shit.¡± ¡°If you had some picks, I could help you with this lock. It¡¯s not very sophisticated.¡± ¡°Yeah, but I don¡¯t.¡± Ward studied the door, thought about it for a minute, then stood up, hefted his cudgel, and knocked on the door. He didn¡¯t bang loudly¡ªjust a couple of quick raps with his knuckles. ¡°Are you¡­nuts?¡± Grace was backing away from him as though she could distance herself from whatever trouble he was about to get into. ¡°No cameras. No peephole.¡± Ward shrugged. He¡¯d dealt with many criminals in his day, and one thing he¡¯d come to appreciate from those who sold themselves as hired goons was that they usually weren¡¯t the sharpest tools in the shed. ¡°I doubt Foyle answers the back door for himself.¡± He was just lifting his fist to knock again when a bolt slid to the side with a rasping click, and the door opened an inch. ¡°What?¡± a nasally, congested voice asked. Ward reached forward, grabbed the edge of the metal door, and viciously yanked it open. The man must have been holding onto the latch because he cried out with a surprised, ¡°Oof!¡± Then, in a rush of warm, smoky air, he stumbled onto the stoop, and Ward swung his cudgel at him. The guy¡ªslight, short, and wearing a thick leather vest¡ªlifted his arm and got it between Ward¡¯s blow and the side of his head. Then, in a shocking display of agility, he wrapped his arm around the cudgel, tucking it up under his armpit, and stepped forward, pounding a fist that felt like a hunk of cement into Ward¡¯s left side. ¡°Ugh!¡± Ward grunted and stumbled back, but he kept his grip on the club. Maybe that wasn¡¯t smart because the guy moved with him, keeping close and driving punch after punch into Ward¡¯s side. Ward was holding the club with his right hand, and he managed to get his left arm down, blocking some of the damage meant for his torso. Still, he felt the punches like hammer blows, and when he tried to grab the guy¡¯s punching arm, he could feel the heat¡ªhe was a Gopah practitioner. For the first time, Ward began to feel like he¡¯d bitten off more than he could chew. He was a tough guy; he¡¯d been in plenty of fights, but he¡¯d been armed in the more deadly ones. Fist fighting, grappling¡ªhe wasn¡¯t an expert. He¡¯d counted on his superior strength, along with the element of surprise and sheer brutality, to see him through the raid on Foyle¡¯s offices, and it seemed he might have messed up because the guy tenderizing his side didn¡¯t look to be slowing down. One thing Ward had going for him was that the clean-shaven, angry-eyed brawler didn¡¯t seem to have nearly as much heat in his fists as Haley could muster. ¡°Throw him off or something!¡± Grace yelled from the street; she¡¯d moved off the stoop when Ward and the door guard began their scuffle. Ward tried to ignore her, but then he thought about it. He had to have fifty pounds on the guy, and he was strong from mana, wasn¡¯t he? Why was he on the defensive? Ward growled, stopped blocking, yanked on the wooden cudgel, pulled the fighter closer, and then started wailing away with his free hand, trying to pound the guy in any sensitive spot he could find. At first, the door guard seemed excited by Ward¡¯s switch to offensive tactics. He tucked his chin and continued to pound away at Ward¡¯s ribs, but his exuberance began to fade as Ward¡¯s ribs refused to break, and his heavy fist began to deliver some punishment of its own. Ward smashed him in the ear, the shoulder, the cheek, the ear, pounding away again and again. They traded blows like heavyweights, only the guard wasn¡¯t in Ward¡¯s weight class. He wasn¡¯t in his league when it came to durability. The hired muscle began to stagger, his punches came slower, and Ward¡¯s knuckles opened contusions on his bald head, ear, cheek, and brow. After half a minute of furious grunting and smacking of flesh, the guard let go of Ward¡¯s club, staggered back, and opened his mouth, taking a deep breath. Ward knew he was about to shout an alarm, so rather than wind the cudgel up for a mighty swing, he lunged forward, driving the round, hard end into the man¡¯s windpipe. The door guard¡¯s cry was cut short in a choking gurgle, and he turned, eyes bulging in his bloody, bruised face, and stumbled toward the door. Ward had anticipated the move, though, and the club clunked against the top of his head with a disturbing finality. The Gopah fighter, probably someone Haley knew, fell to the floor, utterly still. Ward groaned and stretched, rubbing his hand along his side, feeling his tender ribs. He was glad he¡¯d been wearing his thick woolen coat; those punches would¡¯ve hurt even more without it tangling in the guy¡¯s fist, but he would be terribly sore for a few days. He peered through the open door and saw a dark kitchen with a single candle burning on a small, round table. A thin book lay open before it, and Ward could see the pencil-drawn doodles of the man he¡¯d likely just killed. He stepped inside and pulled the door closed. ¡°That was ugly,¡± Grace said, sitting atop the table beside the little notebook and candle. Ward nodded and replied in a whisper, ¡°Ugly and painful. At least it doesn¡¯t look like the guys out front heard.¡± Clutching his blood-stained cudgel, he walked through the little kitchen. He could feel the wooden floorboards trying to creak, but he stepped slowly and carefully and made it to the door without any noise. When he opened it, he saw a short hallway that ran beside a staircase leading up. He could see a door at the end of the hall and figured it would open up into the sitting area at the front of the shop. Two closed doors were on his left; according to Fay¡¯s description, one was Foyle¡¯s office. Ward slowly crept up to the first door and pressed his ear against it. He held his breath, listening for twenty long seconds, but didn¡¯t hear anything. He tried the knob, and it turned, so he opened the door just a crack and peered through with one eye. The shadows were thick, but a sliver of light through a high window revealed stacked boxes atop narrow tables, all neatly labeled. ¡°File room,¡± Grace breathed, probably trying not to startle him. Ward nodded and pulled the door closed. He moved quietly to the next door and, again, pressed his ear to the wood. Ward didn¡¯t hear anything from the other side, but when he tried to turn the knob, he found it locked. Again, Grace said what he was thinking, ¡°Probably his office. I can imagine he wants it locked when he¡¯s not in there. I bet he¡¯s upstairs in his living quarters.¡± ¡°Yep,¡± Ward whispered, then carefully, slowly, patiently crept to the stairs and began to go up. He¡¯d figured Foyle would be sleeping. Wouldn¡¯t it make sense for a businessman to be sleeping after midnight? He¡¯d been worried that the sounds of the scuffle out back would have awoken him, but it didn¡¯t seem that was the case. Surely, the guards from the front would¡¯ve come running if Foyle found something amiss and raised the alarm. Ward made it all the way up the stairs with only one of them creaking under his weight. He froze for nearly a full minute when that happened but heard nothing but the occasional ticking sounds that seemed to be ever-present in old buildings like that. ¡°Where¡¯s the warmth from? I thought there¡¯d be a fire.¡± Grace spoke softly, and Ward knew only he could hear her, but it still bothered him. He hissed, ¡°I saw a heat register in the kitchen. He must have a boiler in the basement.¡± ¡°Oh, makes sense. Steam-age.¡± She nodded and tiptoed up the last few stairs ahead of him. Ward followed her and stepped onto the upstairs landing. A short hallway led to a closed door just before him, and an opening to another hallway was ahead and to the left. Ward crept through the hallways, listening at doors, peeking through, and only when he¡¯d reached the furthest one, down the long, dark hallway, did he discern the soft sighs of a woman breathing and the grumbling wheeze of a man¡¯s nasally snores. ¡°Oh, great,¡± Grace said, reminding Ward that she could hear everything he could, ¡°Looks like you¡¯re going to have to murder an innocent woman.¡± 41. Unsatisfied 41 ¨C Unsatisfied Ward ignored Grace; he wasn¡¯t going to be murdering anyone in their sleep, let alone Foyle¡¯s wife or girlfriend or whoever was softly breathing in there. He reached for the door latch and, slower than cold molasses dripping off a spoon, he twisted it open. Then, just as slowly, he pushed the door open a crack so he could peer through. The curtains were partially drawn, so it was very dark in the room, but Ward could make out a bed, a dresser, a wardrobe, some stacked books, and a few piles of clothes. On the bed, beneath a thin blanket, he saw the slumbering forms of a rotund man and a much smaller woman. Ward stared at the man for a minute, examining his features in the sliver of moonlight. He studied him from the thin, stringy, long hair to the puffy cheeks, jowly jaws, and thick, bulbous nose. Watching him snore, struggling with something like sleep apnea, an idea came to Ward. He gently closed the door and backtracked to the doorway leading to what he¡¯d earlier determined was the upstairs apartment¡¯s only bathroom. He slipped inside, closing the door halfway, just as he¡¯d found it. ¡°Giving up?¡± Grace hopped onto the cluttered bathroom counter, knocking aside some fragile-looking perfume bottles. Ward almost scolded her, but then he remembered that she wasn¡¯t really knocking the perfume over. Like the footprints she left while walking, the disturbance was only in Ward¡¯s mind. If he looked away and back, the perfume bottles would be back in their places. ¡°How old you reckon that man is?¡± Ward whispered. ¡°Older than you. Fifties? Maybe sixty?¡± ¡°Right. It¡¯s just about midnight, and if I know anything about an aging prostate, that guy¡¯s going to be up to take a piss soon.¡± Grace¡¯s eyes narrowed, and Ward could see she wanted to argue with him, but she shook her head. ¡°You¡¯re probably right.¡± ¡°Yeah, but if I¡¯m wrong, and it¡¯s more like an hour or two, that¡¯s a long time to leave those guys lying around in the alley. What if they wake up?¡± ¡°After the way you cracked their heads? Those guys are either dead or going to need to lay in bed being spoon-fed for a month or two.¡± ¡°Well, it¡¯s possible.¡± Ward was barely whispering, but even so, he almost missed the creak of floorboards preceding the clumsy rattle of a door latch. He froze, then, holding a finger to his lips, slipped behind the bathroom door. Despite knowing no one would hear her, Grace respected his desire to keep quiet, and suddenly, she was beside him, pressed tightly into the corner between the door and the wall. She whispered, ¡°Sounds like him.¡± Ward nodded and waited. A deep, rattling cough sounded from the hallway, then the grumbling mutter of a guy still half asleep as he fumbled his way down the dim hallway. The dimness was short-lived, though; Ward could see a pool of light approaching through the crack between the door and the jam, and then Foyle was there, pushing the door open to the point Ward had to turn his feet sideways to keep it from bumping his toes. Foyle stumbled into the bathroom. He set his little flickering lamp on the counter, then went straight for the copper toilet, lifting his weird, old-timey sleeping gown to allow a clear shot as his urine began to spurt and trickle into the bowl. Ward switched his blood-stained club to his left hand, then quietly pulled the knife he¡¯d taken from the killer out of his boot. Moving with startling speed and skill, he crept up behind Foyle. In one swift motion, he wrapped his left arm around the older, heavier man, jerking him back and pinning him in place. With the blade pressed firmly against Foyle''s throat, Ward held him tight. ¡°Be quiet, or you¡¯re dead.¡± Foyle jerked at first, utterly startled, mid-stream. His piss sprayed all over the back of the toilet and onto the wainscoting, and he gasped in surprise. Even so, he settled down immediately when he felt the blade on his neck and heard Ward¡¯s words. ¡°What is it? I don¡¯t keep many glories on hand, but you can have them!¡± ¡°I said be quiet,¡± Ward growled. He backed up two steps, dragging Foyle with him, and then he closed the door with his foot. Still squeezing him tight with his left arm, digging the stubble on his chin into the broker¡¯s soft, pudgy neck, Ward hissed into his ear, ¡°Consider yourself dead already. I¡¯m fully intending to kill you, but I might change my mind if you answer my questions honestly. Understand?¡± ¡°Ye-yes,¡± Foyle stammered. ¡°Why¡¯d you hire goons to kill the local girl who went into the catacombs? Why try to murder the guy who came out with her?¡± ¡°Who, um, who are you?¡± Ward squeezed him and pressed the edge of the knife into his flesh, cutting him slightly, though nothing much worse than a shaving nick. ¡°Answer the question.¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t hire them!¡± At the man¡¯s quavering protestation, Ward squeezed him, cranking the hard, wooden club under his knife-wielding arm for pressure. He jostled him hard, letting the knife nick him again. ¡°I m-mean, I did, but it was the demand of a sorcerer! I had to, or I would¡¯ve died! I swear! A man came to me, a madman! He¡ª¡± Foyle coughed and staggered forward, but Ward held him mercilessly tight. ¡°He had a voice that rattled my brain. He paid me a hundred glories to send some hard men after any sorcerer who came out of the catacombs behind him!¡± When Ward didn¡¯t relent, holding the knife tight to his neck, Foyle continued to stammer, ¡°He was bald with a tattooed head. He said he wanted men who¡¯d kill for coin, and when I told him to get out of my shop, he spoke a word like them wizards do, and my ears started to bleed. I saw nightmares! Nightmares in the middle of the day! You have to believe me!¡± ¡°So you hired the guys who came after the man with the glowing eyes? The one staying at the Hen¡¯s Nest?¡± ¡°Yes! I was pissing myself worse than I am right now! That man was insane! His eyes were bloody. His skin was colorless; just looking at him made me shiver. He spoke in riddles and, and his tongue¡ªit was silver, and he kept sliding it out of his mouth over his lips¡­¡± Ward could feel Foyle¡¯s involuntary shudder as his words trailed off. ¡°What about the girl? The local girl who came out?¡± ¡°I had n-nothing to do with that! I swear! If it was the demon, the mad sorcerer, maybe he hired someone else!¡± Foyle shuddered and shook, and it took Ward a moment to realize he was weeping. ¡°He¡¯s not lying, Ward.¡± Suddenly, Grace was there, standing atop the copper toilet bowl, looking at Ward from overtop Foyle¡¯s head. ¡°I¡¯ve been around a long time, as you know. I can spot a lie, and this guy¡¯s spilling his guts for you. I¡¯d still kill him, in any case. He¡¯s likely to stir up trouble about you breaking into his house and bashing his goons¡¯ skulls in.¡± Ward tuned her out as he thought. He¡¯d killed plenty of people, sure, but never via ambush in the middle of the night while they took a piss in their bathrobe. Did he like Foyle? No, but he also wasn¡¯t feeling angry enough at the moment to do the deed. He didn¡¯t feel like he could just slit the old bastard¡¯s neck and let him bleed out on the bathroom floor. ¡°Listen to me, you crooked, dirty bastard,¡± he growled into the man¡¯s red, veinous ear. ¡°The men that guy hired failed, and the sorcerer from out of town, the big guy, he¡¯s pissed. He¡¯s looking for vengeance, and if he catches wind that you¡¯re nosing around or causing any more trouble, he¡¯ll work a spell on you that¡¯ll make whatever that little bald guy did feel like warm pancakes for breakfast. You understand?¡± ¡°Yes, yes!¡± He tried to nod, but the knife was too tight to his flesh. ¡°I had to rough up your goons a little to deliver this message. Make that mess go away, and then forget about this. If you don¡¯t, whatever comes next to visit you in the night will be much, much worse than me. Clear?¡± Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. ¡°Y-yes, sir.¡± ¡°When I let go of you, lay down on your belly and close your eyes. Count to a hundred before you move. I swear to everything that¡¯s holy, if you so much as peep in my direction, I¡¯ll put this knife into your heart.¡± ¡°I won¡¯t! I swear!¡± As if to prove his good intentions, Foyle screwed his eyes shut and slapped his sweaty, thick palms over his face. Ward gave him a shove toward the toilet and watched as he flopped down to his knees with a groan and then laid flat on his stomach. As soon as he was down, Ward slipped out the door and hurried out of the house. He figured he was out the back door in less than ten seconds. None of his clubbing victims had moved, and he began to have some serious doubts about their likelihood of ever waking again as he hurried past their motionless forms and up the alley. He kept his hat tucked low, and after a few steps, he tossed the well-used, hardwood cudgel onto the roof of a dark-windowed tenement. When he emerged from the alley, he walked across the street and into another. Grace kept up a running diatribe about how stupid he was the entire time. He mostly tuned her out, but as he put more and more distance between himself and Foyle¡¯s place, he finally looked at her. ¡°I¡¯m not a cold-blooded killer, and that guy didn¡¯t do the murdering. You said so yourself¡ªhe wasn¡¯t lying. I couldn¡¯t see myself slitting his throat.¡± ¡°He¡¯s probably gathering up his city watch buddies right now to come to the Hen¡¯s Nest and arrest you.¡± ¡°He never saw my face.¡± ¡°Unless he¡¯s an idiot, he¡¯ll either think it was you or someone you sent his way.¡± Ward turned out of the alley onto a major boulevard, leading him north toward the central part of town. ¡°He was terrified, Grace. Maybe you can¡¯t recognize that the way I can, but that guy was scared shitless. He¡¯s just glad to be alive. Having a knife at your throat in a place you feel safe is a cold wake-up call, trust me. He¡¯s going to spend the next few days beefing up his security. At night, when his pride starts to show itself, when he starts to think about finding me and teaching me a lesson, he¡¯s going to remember that cold blade on his neck, he¡¯s going to remember that I threatened him with magic worse than Nevkin¡¯s, and he¡¯s just going to be glad he''s alive.¡± ¡°Ugh! I don¡¯t get it. You could have just ended the problem right then and there.¡± ¡°He¡¯s only a part of the problem, part of a weed, but not the roots. I need to leave town to get to the roots.¡± ¡°Nevkin.¡± ¡°Exactly.¡± Ward felt pretty conspicuous walking quickly through the shadows in the chilly midnight air. Far fewer people were out and about than had been when he¡¯d headed for Foyle¡¯s place an hour ago. ¡°Shit. Do you suppose there¡¯s some kind of curfew? Have we heard anyone mention one?¡± ¡°Nope, nothing I can recall, and you know I have a good memory.¡± Grace padded nearly silently beside him, her habitually bare feet making occasional soft slapping sounds on the cobbles. ¡°You know, the way that man described Nevkin; that wasn¡¯t something someone comes up with out of the blue. He really meant those words about his eyes bleeding and his flesh being too pale. I think Nevkin bit off more than he could chew with that tongue artifact.¡± Grace barked a laugh, slapping her hands together. ¡°Did you catch that? Bit off more than he could chew?¡± Ward humored her with a snort, shaking his head. ¡°If you feel you have to explain the joke, it probably wasn¡¯t a good one.¡± ¡°Slow down! City watch up at the corner.¡± Ward sidestepped into the shadowy doorway of a closed tea shop and peered up the slightly sloping road to the next corner. Sure enough, a uniformed member of the city watch was leaning on the lamppost, smoking from a long, slender pipe. Ward glanced behind him, saw an alley opening two buildings down, and hustled for it, keeping close to the buildings, hunching over so he wouldn¡¯t look like himself if the guard glanced his way. He didn¡¯t want anyone saying he was wandering the town in the middle of the night in case the watch somehow caught wind of Foyle¡¯s brutalized henchmen. ¡°In case that little shit backs out of our deal.¡± ¡°Foyle? You¡¯re really going to count on him to stay quiet?¡± ¡°We¡¯ve been over this.¡± Ward ducked into the alley and hurried toward the next street. ¡°The guy was terrified. I didn¡¯t make him look bad in front of his guys, so he won¡¯t feel he has to save face by getting back at someone. If he¡¯s smart, he¡¯ll blame the assault on a botched robbery.¡± Grace didn¡¯t respond, and Ward kept hurrying through the streets. He had to duck another member of the watch when he passed through the central market square, but it was smooth sailing back to the Hen¡¯s Nest after that. When he approached, he saw lights still on in the common room. Music drifted into the night, and Ward figured some guests were up drinking, reluctant to call it a night. ¡°You don¡¯t want them to see you coming in.¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± Ward circled the block, found the alley leading behind the row of buildings, including the inn, and worked his way in, shoving past the piled crates, burn barrels, and a narrow cart missing one of its wooden wheels. When he reached the inn''s back door, he wasn¡¯t surprised to see the kitchen door held ajar by a cinderblock and to smell the unmistakable aroma of baking bread. Was Fan getting a head start on the morning baking? He pulled the door wide and slipped inside, getting a good look at Fan¡¯s kitchen for the first time. It was very much as he¡¯d imagined¡ªtwo big ovens with gas ranges atop, a long copper sink that looked a lot like a watering trough, counters covered with dishes and plates, stacks of grain sacks, and a red wooden door with the word ¡°Cellars¡± written in flowery yellow paint. Fan was working at a butcherblock counter, flipping and slapping a huge wad of dough. She looked up, scowling, when Ward pulled the door closed against the cinder block. When she saw who it was, her frown turned into a smile. ¡°Oh? Slipping in the back door? A lady in the common room you¡¯re avoiding?¡± ¡°Hah! I wish it were something like that. I, uh, would rather people weren¡¯t aware I was out and about this late at night.¡± Ward took his hat off and held it before himself, trying to offer Fan a winning smile. ¡°Are you asking me to pretend I didn¡¯t just see you slip in? Well, as far as I know, you just came down from your room for a midnight snack. Why don¡¯t you grab a plate there and look in the icebox around the corner? I¡¯ve got some leftover cookies.¡± ¡°You know, Fan, you¡¯re pretty great. Did anyone ever tell you that?¡± ¡°Mmhmm, you¡¯re not the first man to stay here who was up to no good in the middle of the night. Good thing I like you.¡± She winked at him and then, slamming her dough down with a slap and a puff of flour from the board, added, ¡°Take off your coat and leave it with your hat on that chair, there. I¡¯ll bring ¡®em up after everyone¡¯s gone so it doesn¡¯t look like you just came in.¡± ¡°Thanks!¡± Ward did just as she said, then got himself a plate of oatmeal cookies and a glass of milk. As he walked through the common room and up the stairs to his room, none of the drinking, carousing late-night revelers so much as gave him a second glance. He wasn¡¯t sure what to expect when he entered his room; the last he¡¯d heard from Haley was that she¡¯d agreed to stay at the inn. He didn¡¯t know if that meant he was giving up his bed or what. His room was empty and dark, though, and when he lit a lamp and looked around, he found only his things. Grace walked around the room somewhat despondently. ¡°I hope Fay let her stay with her.¡± ¡°Yeah, me too. If she went home, I¡¯m going to be worried.¡± Ward frowned, then shrugged and set his snack on the little table. He removed his clothes and hung them in the standing wardrobe with his other new garments. Then, he sat down in his underclothes and ate one of the big, chewy cookies, savoring the rich, sugary, buttery flavor. ¡°God, I was hungry.¡± Grace sighed with exasperation. ¡°I know! Poor baby! Murdering people is tiring work. Are you satisfied with your vengeance, at least?¡± ¡°That wasn¡¯t murder! It was a fight, and no, I¡¯m decidedly unsatisfied. It seems like the guy who attacked Haley might not have been part of the crew who attacked me.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know if you can call that a fight¡­ Forget it. What¡¯s the plan?¡± Grace sat beside him, closing her eyes and smiling while Ward chewed on another bite. ¡°Good, huh?¡± Ward grinned when she nodded. He chugged half the glass of milk, sighing happily. ¡°Tomorrow, I¡¯ll hopefully get my new armor delivered and hear from the guy trying to make my bullets. Depending on what he says, we might leave in a day or two. I want to catch up with Nevkin and figure out what the hell his deal is. He was a little snooty when we met, but he was smart and capable, and I didn¡¯t think he was the kind of guy to hire murderers and put the fear of God into a seasoned bookie. Grace nodded. ¡°I think the artifact is corrupting him. I think he was too weak to use it, to take it in. I¡¯ve heard stories about things like that. It¡¯s almost like a curse, I guess. Try to use an artifact stronger than you are, with a more potent personality, and it¡¯s likely to take over.¡± She shrugged. ¡°Or, you know, he could have just been playing you¡ªhiding his more sinister side. He certainly didn¡¯t have any qualms about stealing your mana-well and abandoning you and Haley to your doom.¡± ¡°Probably a combination. Still, I think this thing, the, uh, ¡®warlock¡¯s silver tongue,¡¯ is behind his sudden backstabbing, murderous streak.¡± When Grace shrugged, Ward polished off his cookie and downed his milk. ¡°Best get some sleep. I have a feeling the city watch is going to be poking around in the morning, and I want to be sharp. I also need to tell Haley I killed the guy who killed her parents, but I¡¯m not sure who sent him. Yeah, it¡¯s going to be another tiring day.¡± 42. A Ton of Bricks 42 ¨C A Ton of Bricks Ward wanted to sleep in, but his mind wouldn¡¯t let him. His eyes opened just as the first light of dawn was brightening his window, and though he tossed and turned, burying his face in his pillow, sleep wouldn¡¯t come back to him. After a frustrating half an hour or so, he decided to take charge of his sleeplessness and jumped out of bed. He took a hot bath to fight off the morning chill, and when he emerged from his room, dressed in a clean set of new clothes, though not in his jacket, he felt pretty damn good despite only sleeping four or five hours. The common room was quiet, with only one other early riser eating breakfast near the fireplace. Ward took a seat by a small window table and watched the frost steam on the slate and copper roofs of nearby buildings. When Fay emerged from the kitchen carrying a pitcher of hot cider toward her other customer, she gave him a double-take and then hurried over. ¡°Ward! Fan told me about your¡­visit to the kitchen last night.¡± She spoke softly, offering him a wink, and Ward suppressed a chuckle. ¡°Yeah, good cookies. Did Haley go home?¡± ¡°No! She¡¯s still snug in my bed. And before you go making lewd comments, I slept with my auntie again. You¡¯re not the only one who gets special guest treatment around here.¡± ¡°I wasn¡¯t thinking any¡­¡± Ward trailed off as Grace appeared and started speaking over him. ¡°Ask her how she is!¡± ¡°Um, she¡¯s all right, though? I was a little worried about her last night.¡± ¡°She¡¯s fine, but she¡¯ll have a hangover. Were things okay for you? I mean, concerning your errands?¡± ¡°Yeah. Messy, but okay, I think. We¡¯ll see.¡± Ward raised his voice, grinning crookedly at Fay, ¡°Glad I was home in my room early last night, let¡¯s put it that way!¡± ¡°Mmhmm. I¡¯m sure there¡¯s plenty we can talk about later, though, right? Anyway, breakfast?¡± ¡°Please!¡± Ward¡¯s mood was so good that he almost felt buzzed, which was a strange way for a man to feel, in his opinion, after bludgeoning a few strangers to death the night before. While Fay delivered a drink to her other customer, he looked over at Grace, who¡¯d taken the seat across from him. ¡°You think there¡¯s something wrong with me?¡± ¡°Where do I start?¡± ¡°Seriously. Why am I so chipper after last night? That was some¡­harrowing shit.¡± ¡°Come on, Ward. Is that the first time you¡¯ve picked up a baseball bat to make a point?¡± ¡°Never with such finality.¡± Ward sighed and stretched his legs out under the table, leaning back a bit in the wooden chair. ¡°I worry that part of me doesn¡¯t think this is all real.¡± Grace shrugged. ¡°I think you¡¯re past that. You¡¯ve almost died enough times now that you¡¯ve grasped an appreciation for how vital it is that you keep breathing.¡± She drummed her fingers briefly while Ward frowned, then continued, ¡°I think it has more to do with me being in your head, with your body¡¯s absorption of mana, and the repeated face-to-face encounters with death since you got here. Your psyche isn¡¯t the same as it was back on Earth.¡± ¡°You¡¯re having an effect on me?¡± ¡°Glad you zeroed in on that point.¡± Grace sighed and shrugged again, her narrow shoulders pushing up the collar of her suit jacket. ¡°I guess I am. I mean, that¡¯s how these things work¡ªyou get a little bit of me, and I get a little bit of you. It can¡¯t be helped when we¡¯re both sharing space in that thick skull of yours.¡± In spite of himself, Ward laughed. ¡°It is thick, isn¡¯t it? I¡¯m hardly sore from yesterday. My ribs feel tender, but it¡¯s just bruising.¡± ¡°It¡¯s good your face didn¡¯t get battered ¡®cause you just saw Captain Figran ducking under the awning.¡± ¡°I¡ª¡± Ward jerked his attention back to the window. Sure enough, there was Figran, stomping his feet and shrugging out a coat. A minute later, he stepped through the door and hung the long garment from the rack beside the door. He scanned the room, and when his eyes fell on Ward, they lit up like he¡¯d just seen a buck on a deer hunt. He cleared his throat and strode toward his table, his boots clomping on the wooden plank flooring. ¡°Mr. Dyer! Just the man I was coming to see.¡± ¡°Oh?¡± Ward gestured to Grace¡¯s chair. ¡°Join me for breakfast?¡± ¡°Ahem.¡± He stepped over to the chair and pulled it out. ¡°Thank you; I believe I will. My lady wife fixed me a soft-boiled egg over a bed of pickled cabbage this morning, and while it was flavorful, I don¡¯t believe it will sustain me until lunch.¡± ¡°A single egg?¡± Ward shook his head. ¡°That won¡¯t do. Is she concerned about your waistline?¡± ¡°I¡¯d be a lying rascal if I denied it. She had to let out my uniform pants last week.¡± Figran frowned and then chuckled. ¡°What are we talking about? My apologies, but I have important business to discuss with you.¡± ¡°I¡¯m at your service.¡± Ward felt like he¡¯d figured the captain out¡ªhe enjoyed small talk and a show of respect. He reminded him far too much of the command staff he¡¯d had to deal with on a daily basis back in the department. ¡°Excellent. Would you mind describing your activities last evening to me?¡± ¡°My activities? I¡¯m a boring man, Captain. I spent the early evening meditating in my room here, and then I took a quick walk over to my friend¡¯s house to help straighten up before she returns. You know, the young woman who was nearly murdered in one of the city''s better neighborhoods.¡± ¡°Yes, yes. Is that all? What time did you return to the inn?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t own a watch, sir, but it was just past their normal dinner rush.¡± ¡°Mmhmm, and can anyone attest to this?¡± ¡°How about you start giving a little rather than simply taking. What¡¯s this all about? Did something happen last night?¡± ¡°Let¡¯s just say some men were brutalized, and still others are missing. Men who were, according to my investigators, of particular interest with regard to your friend¡¯s assault. Still, if you were here in the night, it¡¯s nothing for you to worry about.¡± He turned at the sound of the kitchen door. ¡°Ah! Here comes the mistress¡¯s daughter.¡± ¡°That¡¯s her niece.¡± Ward was a little taken aback by the captain¡¯s change in demeanor. Was he playing him, or had Ward¡¯s simple efforts at charm paid off so handsomely? Fay¡¯s smile had fallen at the sight of Figran, but she came over, forcing it back into place. ¡°Hello, Captain! Will you be joining us for breakfast?¡± ¡°Indeed, I shall!¡± ¡°In that case, let me put this down for Ward, and then I¡¯ll hurry back with more for you.¡± ¡°Yes, yes. I¡¯m sure Ward¡¯s quite hungry after his activities last night.¡± ¡°My¡ª¡± Ward started, but the captain held up his hand, and Ward could see this was a test. He narrowed his eyes but stopped speaking. ¡°Activities?¡± Fay looked at Ward and raised one eyebrow. ¡°Were you up to something last night? I didn¡¯t see you take anyone up to your room.¡± Ward shrugged and capitalized on Fay¡¯s clever response. ¡°Not sure what the captain¡¯s getting at. What is it, Captain?¡± Figran watched Fay set down Ward¡¯s bacon, eggs, and buttery toast, then, swallowing noisily, he said, ¡°Oh, so Mr. Dyer was here last night?¡± ¡°Far as I know, aye. Though, I confess, I was rather busy flirting with Waylin Venns.¡± ¡°Waylin¡­Isn¡¯t he one of the farriers down on Copper Row?¡± ¡°Yes! He¡¯ll be so thrilled to know Captain Figran knows him! He¡¯s desperate to get a contract with the watch! Do you think you could speak to him? He says he¡¯s purchased a recipe for a hoof balm that¡¯ll extend your mounts'' functional lifespan.¡± ¡°Is that so? Well, I¡¯ll send Sergeant Guest down to speak with him.¡± He pointed at Ward¡¯s food. ¡°I¡¯ll take just what this fellow has, please.¡± ¡°Right away, sir.¡± Fay turned, but as her eyes passed across Ward¡¯s, she sent him a smile that said something along the lines of, ¡°Aren¡¯t I clever?¡± You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story. Ward spent the next hour making small talk with the captain while he slowly consumed the meal Fay brought him. He sipped his tea, he took tiny bites of his eggs and pork, and he even nibbled his bread¡ªit was driving Ward mad watching him slowly progress through his breakfast, but he had nowhere else to be at that hour, and he had a feeling the captain knew it. They spoke about the guards and crime in the city, and Ward learned a bit about their legal system¡ªpeople were given a trial before a judge, but there wasn¡¯t any guarantee of rights. If you were suspected of a serious crime, there was a good chance you¡¯d be locked in a cell while you awaited the Judge¡¯s attention. Ward learned that in matters as severe as what had befallen Haley and her parents, the entire process was handed off to the Marshal, and his or her investigation would determine if an Assembly Judge would have to come to the town to settle matters. The Assembly reminded him of the federal government in the United States, though perhaps a bit more distant and hands-off. When the captain was near the finish line with his final piece of buttered, jam-slathered toast, Ward asked, ¡°Have you ever gone to¡­well, wherever the Vainglory Assembly is based?¡± ¡°Oh, goodness, no! They¡¯re on Primus, and the cost to travel to Primus would¡­¡± He chewed and contemplated, eyes on the ceiling while he thought things over and swallowed his last bite. ¡°It would ruin me. No, I¡¯d have to sell everything I own, including my grandparents¡¯ home.¡± ¡°Huh. That hard? So, people don¡¯t travel between the worlds in this system?¡± ¡°Oh, I wouldn¡¯t say that! There are several worlds closer than Primus. Springsea is only a week¡¯s journey on a hauler. I¡¯ve never been, but I¡¯ve talked to a few folks who have.¡± ¡°Springsea?¡± ¡°You haven¡¯t seen it? At night, this time of year, you can see her hanging next to Fua¡ªthe big blue moon. Springsea is green and blue with a glass-like sheen near sunset.¡± The way he described it brought a crystal-clear image to Ward¡¯s mind. He¡¯d seen the green-blue marble in the sky since coming to Cinder. ¡°I¡¯ve seen it!¡± He nodded enthusiastically, sipping his fourth cup of warm cider. The captain finally stood up from the table some fifteen minutes later, holding his belly, distended with food and drink, as he stumbled toward the door. ¡°Time to get to the office! Oof! I overdid it this morning. Don¡¯t tell my wife!¡± he laughed, speaking to Ward but pitching his voice so everyone in the common room was in on the joke. Many guests had come down during their breakfast, and the space buzzed with conversation. Several people chuckled at the captain¡¯s humor, and then the man was gone, and Ward found himself face-to-face with Grace again. ¡°He wants to like you. I think he¡¯s convinced himself that you¡¯re not a bad guy.¡± ¡°Good.¡± Ward sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. ¡°Hopefully, he¡¯ll leave me alone until I clear town.¡± ¡°Clearing town, eh?¡± Fay asked, walking up behind him. He¡¯d forgotten she¡¯d been meandering the room, cleaning tables. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean it like that¡ª¡± ¡°I know what you mean. Don¡¯t worry about my feelings, mister. You made it pretty clear you weren¡¯t planning to settle down here.¡± She turned to the stairs at the sound of hard soles clicking on the steps. ¡°Speaking of fleeing town, here¡¯s your girlfriend.¡± She didn¡¯t sound angry or bitter, but Ward couldn¡¯t help feeling the bite of her words. ¡°She¡¯s not my girlfriend,¡± he said, more sharply than he¡¯d intended. Fay flashed him a perplexing look¡ªhalf smile and half scoff, and then she hurried back to the kitchen. Grace sighed. ¡°You hurt her feelings.¡± ¡°How?¡± Ward wasn¡¯t dumb, but he wasn¡¯t a genius, either, and he couldn¡¯t see what he¡¯d done to deserve Fay¡¯s ire. ¡°Well, she helped clean Haley¡¯s house. She lied to the cops for you. Instead of acting thankful or thinking about how you could show your appreciation, you sat here talking to yourself about skipping town.¡± ¡°I wasn¡¯t talking to myself¡ª¡± ¡°Morning, Ward. Grace here?¡± Haley smiled, yawning, as she sat opposite him. Grace had moved, suddenly standing behind Haley, leaning on the back of her chair, grinning at Ward, practically cheek to cheek with the young woman. ¡°Yeah, you caught me. At least you know I¡¯m not crazy.¡± ¡°Am I interrupting?¡± ¡°No, no. We¡¯re just bantering.¡± Ward pitched his voice low and almost whispered, ¡°Hey, I have some news for you.¡± ¡°Oh?¡± She raised an eyebrow and leaned close, reaching for his cup of cider and sniffing the contents before drinking a healthy swig. ¡°After I finished up at your house, you know, cleaning up, the guy who attacked you and your folks made a try at me.¡± Now Ward really did whisper as Haley¡¯s eyes bugged out, ¡°He¡¯s buried in your backyard with the other guy.¡± ¡°Really?¡± She leaned back, blowing out a deep, pent-up breath. ¡°That¡¯s¡­¡± She frowned, searching for words, then nodded, locking her eyes with Wards. ¡°Thank you, Ward. That¡¯s a relief. I wasn¡¯t looking forward to seeing myself when I eventually confronted him.¡± She looked thoughtful, gently tapping one of her smooth, round fingernails against her slightly dimpled chin. ¡°Does that mean Foyle¡ª¡± ¡°I, uh, paid him a visit too. Keep that between us, please¡ªsome crimes were committed.¡± Ward shrugged and then, trying to steer her thinking in the right direction, said, ¡°He isn¡¯t responsible. I put the fear of God in him, and he confessed to sending the thugs after me¡ªat Nevkin¡¯s request¡ªbut he swore he had nothing to do with the attack on you. It¡¯s still possible Nevkin set that up with someone on his own, but I don¡¯t know.¡± Ward frowned, thinking, while Haley digested his words. After a moment, he nodded. ¡°Anyway, we need to catch up to Nevkin; you won¡¯t get any justice out of Foyle.¡± ¡°I can¡¯t believe that calm, educated, rational boy did all this. I can¡¯t believe he stole your artifact and abandoned us, let alone hired killers to lay in wait.¡± ¡°Nah, I agree, and so does Grace. She thinks it''s that tongue. Well, mostly¡ªwe both think he was a little creepier than he let on while we were working together.¡± ¡°I think the same. It¡¯s burned on my mind, that horrible gargling cry he made as it took root in his mouth, and that sound as he first spoke with it. It might be a powerful boon for a sorcerer, but Nevkin was just a boy! He didn¡¯t have a touch of the stuff in him. How could he handle something like that?¡± ¡°That¡¯s about what Grace said.¡± Ward shrugged. ¡°I don¡¯t know much about artifacts, but apparently, they can have a will of their own.¡± ¡°The more powerful, the older the artifact, the more dangerous. We have many cautionary tales here about such things. A boy finds a magical helmet, and when he wears it, he becomes a mad axe killer. Or the girl who discovers her nan¡¯s old recipe book only to find herself concocting poisons and mind control potions, handing them out to the neighborhood kids, especially those who teased or bullied her. They¡¯re mostly fairy tales, but you know how those things go; there¡¯s some truth behind such ancient stories.¡± The bell above the door rang, and a boy walked in carrying a burlap-wrapped bundle. He walked over to the bar and, struggling with the weight, heaved it onto the counter. ¡°I have a feeling that¡¯s for me,¡± Ward said. ¡°You ordered something?¡± ¡°An armored shirt, one that fits. Speaking of that, how soon do you think you¡¯ll be ready to leave town? I¡¯d like to buy mounts or hire onto a caravan and head north. We need to pick up Nevkin¡¯s trail before it gets cold.¡± ¡°You know, I didn¡¯t consider this before, but I have a horse, Ward, and you can have my father¡¯s. He¡¯s a proud stallion and a good, easy runner. My father endlessly praised him¡ªhe¡¯s a dun with a white star on his forehead named Nutmeg.¡± ¡°Really? Why didn¡¯t you ever mention you were a rider?¡± ¡°Well, it¡¯s not so uncommon; besides, I haven¡¯t been out to the stables in almost a year. I got preoccupied with Gopah and preparing for the challenges with Fost.¡± She looked down, her pointer finger drawing little circles in a bit of spilled cider. Ward saw Fay pick up the package from the bar and start toward their table. He cleared his throat and stood. ¡°Hey. Thanks, Fay.¡± ¡°Yep, delivery for you, sir.¡± She handed it to him, and when he took it, she let go but gently drew the fingers of her left hand over his knuckles, locking eyes with him again. Ward smiled, suddenly nervous by how little he was understanding her mood. He¡¯d thought she was annoyed with him, but now she was flirting again? ¡°Good morning, princess.¡± Fay leaned over to squeeze Haley in a sideways hug. ¡°Was the bed all right? Fan and I didn¡¯t wake you?¡± ¡°It was wonderful! I can¡¯t thank you enough, Fay!¡± ¡°I¡¯m going to get you something to eat, hmm? Ward, are you expecting anything else today? Will you be around?¡± ¡°I¡¯ll be around, but I hoped to hear back from an artificer about some special bullets. I also wanted to pay Maggie a visit out by the graveyard.¡± ¡°I¡¯m going to pack up a bag at my house and lock things up. Do you mind if I go see my uncle outside town? He¡¯s about four hours away by horse, and I want to talk to him about having one of my cousins stay in my house for me. I¡¯m not ready to sell it, but I don¡¯t want to live in it right now.¡± Ward frowned. ¡°Why would I mind?¡± ¡°Well, I don¡¯t want you to leave without me, and I hate to make you wait another day or two while I settle things with the house.¡± ¡°Yes, we wouldn¡¯t want to pin the poor man down for a second longer than we must!¡± Fay laughed when Ward¡¯s scowl deepened, then she turned and sauntered away, calling over her shoulder, ¡°Food¡¯s coming up, Haley!¡± ¡°She¡¯s conflicted,¡± Grace said, watching Fay¡¯s back with a decidedly speculative expression. ¡°Anyway, I don¡¯t mind,¡± Ward said, turning back to Haley and trying to salvage the conversation. ¡°I have a lot of questions for Maggie, and if things go my way, I might have another spell or two to learn after I get done talking to her.¡± ¡°Perfect! I¡¯ll hurry, but I¡¯m sure I¡¯ll need to stay for dinner and spend the night with my uncle¡ªhe never liked my dad, but he sure loved my mom¡­¡± Her voice grew soft, and she looked down; it seemed she couldn¡¯t escape the loss she¡¯d suffered. ¡°Hey, I¡¯m proud of you, Haley. You¡¯re handling everything far better than I could. Don¡¯t hurry on my account. The least I can do is give you time to figure things out before we head out. My only concern is that I don¡¯t want Nevkin to get too far ahead.¡± Haley nodded, a stern, firm expression on her face. She pressed her lips together, nodding. ¡°And we¡¯ve been making enemies here, even if they don¡¯t know it yet.¡± Ward thought about the bodies in her garden and the bodyguards he¡¯d laid out with his stout club the night before. He thought about Foyle, weeping on his knees. ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s a damn good point. Best we move on sooner than later.¡± Haley pushed away from the table and started for the door. ¡°I can¡¯t sit still with all this going on. Tell Fay I¡¯m sorry I skipped breakfast. See you in the morning.¡± She waved, and Ward returned the gesture. Part of him wanted to talk her into sitting back down, but another part of him knew what was happening with her; when you suffered a loss, sometimes the best way to cope was to keep yourself busy, to focus on a goal and get after it. He turned to Grace, raising an eyebrow. ¡°What?¡± the devil asked. ¡°She¡¯s pretty solid, wouldn¡¯t you say? She¡¯ll make a good partner.¡± ¡°This isn¡¯t a buddy cop movie. She¡¯s solid, as you say, but when you¡¯re sitting around the campfire in a few days, don¡¯t be surprised if you find yourself comforting her as she weeps tears that would give La Llorona a run for her money.¡± ¡°La Llorona? You dug pretty deep for that one.¡± Grace scowled, and Ward waved his hand, signaling surrender. ¡°Forget it. I get your point, and I¡¯ll be there when it all hits her like a ton of bricks.¡± ¡°Poetic, Ward.¡± 43. Spells and Enchantments 43 ¨C Spells and Enchantments It was mid-morning when Ward rang the little bell on Maggie¡¯s gate. He could see and smell the smoke coming from her little chimney, so he knew she was up and about, but it still took her a few minutes to open her door and peer out with one bright blue eye. When she saw him, though, she pulled the door wide and gestured for him to come up to the house. ¡°Good morning, traveler.¡± Ward smiled and wiped his boots on the rough wicker mat. ¡°Morning, Maggie.¡± ¡°Have you had breakfast? I was just about to fry up some leftovers with Rippa¡¯s morning gifts.¡± ¡°Rippa? And, no, thank you, I¡¯ve eaten.¡± She laughed. ¡°Rippa¡¯s my hen!¡± She pushed the door closed and gently shoved him further into the house. ¡°Sit at the table, then, and we can talk while I cook.¡± Ward, stooping low to duck under a string of drying herbs, moved into the kitchen and sat in the same chair he¡¯d used before. He pushed the little cloth-wrapped bundle he¡¯d brought from the inn¡ªfresh biscuits and a tiny crock of strawberry preserves¡ªacross the table. ¡°I brought you a treat from the inn.¡± Maggie¡¯s eyes lit up, and she grabbed the bundle and brought it with her to the kitchen. ¡°You¡¯re a quick learner, aren¡¯t you, traveler? Well, what brings you back so soon, hmm? Trouble with the spell?¡± ¡°No, the opposite, actually.¡± Ward pushed some half-full jars of what looked like colored sand to the side, making room in front of him on the table. ¡°It worked well.¡± ¡°And it didn¡¯t harm you in the casting?¡± Maggie looked away from her frying pan to raise an eyebrow in his direction. ¡°It was like you said¡ªI could sense how dangerous it was, almost like how you can feel the temperature of a hot pan by holding your hand close. I knew it wouldn¡¯t be easy, but I also knew it wasn¡¯t going to kill me. Even so, let¡¯s just say it was a good thing I had a healing tonic at hand.¡± ¡°Ah, I see. Give your body a bit more time to gain strength, absorb a bit more mana, and before you know it, you¡¯ll be casting that spell with nary a bit of bleeding.¡± ¡°That¡¯s what I¡¯m hoping, yeah. So, the reason I came out this morn¡ª¡± ¡°Gonna try to pry my spells from my clutching fingers?¡± Maggie cackled as she spoke, interrupting Ward¡¯s attempt at smoothly asking her for her most precious treasures. With the wind taken from his sails, Ward decided to try a bit of logic on for size. ¡°Yeah, well, look, Maggie, I¡¯m new to this whole thing, but I understand the value of these spells. I know part of the reason people hoard knowledge is to have a monopoly on it; they don¡¯t want to create competitors for themselves. I¡¯m about to leave town, and I doubt I¡¯ll come back this way anytime soon, if ever. I won¡¯t set up shop selling potions or cures, or whatever it is you do with your magic. Heck, as you can see, I don¡¯t even know if any of your spells would be of use to me. I¡¯m just asking, though, if there¡¯s any magic you might be able to teach me¡ªanything that might help me survive or help other people¡ªwell, would you consider it? I have some money, probably not enough, but¡ª¡± Again, Maggie interrupted him with a short, barking laugh. ¡°What a charming supplicant! So altruistic! ¡®Please, dear old Maggie! Couldn¡¯t you spare a spell so I might survive the harsh wilds and help the poor, innocent country folk?¡¯ Hah! Most o¡¯ my spells I earned through hard, dirty work that left a taste of shame in my mouth for months and years. Why, I¡¯d say the one you brought out here the other day was the easiest one I ever laid my hands on.¡± She stopped speaking and stirred the sizzling vegetables and hunks of fatty meat in her skillet. Ward was wondering if he should say something or try another approach, but she tsked and shook her head, clearly thinking, and he didn¡¯t want to interrupt the process on the off chance she was quietly convincing herself to help him. He was considering offering her some kind of labor or a favor when she finally sighed and began to speak again, ¡°There¡¯s a way to these things, you see? A kind of history or tradition. Spells can¡¯t be let go cheaply or easily. You¡¯ll find I¡¯m not the only one who feels this way. Why, even a mother wouldn¡¯t give her daughter all her spells just for being her daughter. She¡¯d make her earn ¡®em, which is what I did. I had to pay dearly for every spell I got from my ma and gran. The ones I got from strangers¡­well, I won¡¯t talk about that. Other than yours, that is. I suppose I did take that one from you far too cheaply. A bit of advice about magic was all I gave ya, and that didn¡¯t cost me a thing other than the company of a handsome stranger for an hour or so. No, I suppose¡ªto right things¡ªI need to pay a bit more. I¡¯ll share one more spell with you, one that cost me dearly.¡± ¡°Thank you, Mag¡ª¡± ¡°That¡¯s it, though! After that, you¡¯ve got to leave old Maggie to her secrets. It¡¯d be different if you were sticking around and wanted to become my ¡®prentice. I¡¯d take the cost out of your hide and teach you slowly over the years.¡± ¡°Understood.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll give you ten minutes with the spell sheet. You copy it down, and then you¡¯ll need to be on your way. I have a feeling my old gran¡¯s going to be angry with me, and I¡¯d rather be alone out here when she comes calling.¡± ¡°Your grandmother is alive?¡± Maggie laughed, a deep wheezing laugh that had her bending and slapping her knee. ¡°Oh, silly man! I wish that were the case.¡± Ward wasn¡¯t sure how to take that. Was she getting visits from ghosts, then? He supposed he¡¯d heard crazier things since Grace had dragged him away from Earth. ¡°Well, I appreciate the gesture, Maggie. Thanks.¡± ¡°I¡¯m just doing what I know is right. I don¡¯t want some kind of weight hanging over my head, you see? Don¡¯t go calling me nice or sweet. Now, come stir these onions, and I¡¯ll fetch my book. You have something to write on?¡± When Ward opened his mouth, an unmistakable look of chagrin shaping his expression, she laughed. ¡°Fine, fine. I¡¯ll give you a piece of parchment, too.¡± Ward took over for her, pushing the onions, chopped carrots, and hunks of fatty pork around in her pan, ensuring nothing burned while she left the kitchen. He heard her grunting as she moved things around, and then, only a minute or two later, she placed her spellbook on the table and opened it to a particular page. Before it, she set a blank parchment and a quill. ¡°Don¡¯t touch my book; eyes only. Understood?¡± ¡°Understood.¡± Ward handed her the spatula, then returned to his seat, scooted close to the table, and stared at the spell on the open page of her book. It looked more complicated than the one he¡¯d gotten from the catacombs. It seemed to involve three of the words, not just two, and there were three more positions in the meditation diagram. Printed in a spidery scrawl beneath the spell were someone¡¯s notes: The words mean strike true with power. Touch an object while you cast this spell. One time only, the object will hit whatever you aim at, and it¡¯ll do so like a giant struck the blow. Nan Olive keeps it cast upon a shillelagh tucked beside the front door. I¡¯ll use it to hunt that white buck. Renny swore he¡¯d marry me if I made him a coat from its hide. Poor boy doesn¡¯t think I can do it. ¡°Did you write this one?¡± ¡°No. Them¡¯s my auntie¡¯s words. It¡¯s tradition to keep the notes how you found ¡®em when you get a spell. Feel free to add your own, besides.¡± ¡°So, true strike? I could cast it on a rock and then throw it at something, and I wouldn¡¯t miss?¡± ¡°That¡¯s right. You must be able to see what you¡¯re aiming at. That¡¯s how the magic knows how to help you. You don¡¯t have to throw it, however. Put it on a spear or a sword, and your next strike will do terrible damage.¡± She began cracking eggs, adding them to her skillet with a hot sizzle, then looked at Ward and winked. ¡°Start writing, sir; clock¡¯s ticking.¡± ¡°Shit, right!¡± Ward had almost forgotten she¡¯d given him a time limit to copy the spell. He got to work, writing the three strange words, muttering them to feel their shapes on his tongue, ¡°Ghruvon Truvik Prakhun.¡± They didn¡¯t seem particularly difficult to say, but he knew they¡¯d sound and feel different after he meditated on them and built the spell in his mind. As he began copying the little stick figure drawings of the meditation positions, he asked, ¡°You think this one¡¯s easier or harder than the one I gave you? I mean, you think I¡¯ll need a healing tonic ready if I try it?¡± ¡°It¡¯s easier. The spell you gave me is stronger because it¡¯s more of an open-ended magic; it can do many different things. This one does a specific enchantment every time you cast it. Not only that, but it doesn¡¯t create something from nothing like some other spells. This one just brings out the hidden strength in an object and sweet talks it into acting a certain way. Those are easier kinds of spells to master.¡± ¡°Sweet talks? Like in my example, if I cast this on a stone, would that mean the spell is talking to the stone?¡± ¡°More like it¡¯s talking to the bit of spirit in that stone what¡¯s connected to the rest of the universe. It gives the stone purpose.¡± ¡°Huh. I like it. So getting an existing object to do something is easier than creating an object out of nothing.¡± ¡°An object, an element, a spirit, aye.¡± Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site. ¡°But the ¡®reveal secrets¡¯ spell doesn¡¯t create¡­¡± Ward stopped speaking, remembering the weird phantoms who¡¯d shown him the secrets of his room at the inn. ¡°That spell digs things out of people or objects, and it looks deeply. I tried it once after you left. Cast it on my dead sister¡¯s favorite comb.¡± She shuddered. ¡°Learned something I wish I hadn¡¯t. Also cried bloody tears for an hour!¡± She laughed and then scooped the contents of her pan into a big wooden bowl. Carrying it over to the table, she asked, ¡°Almost done?¡± ¡°Yeah, just checking to make sure I didn¡¯t make any mistakes with your little stick figures.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t forget the timings.¡± ¡°Nope, got ¡®em.¡± Ward folded his paper in half, then scooted back from the table. ¡°Sure you won¡¯t let any others go?¡± Again, she laughed. ¡°Not for anything you¡¯d be willing to bargain!¡± Ward knew better than to press his luck, and he felt pretty good about the spell she¡¯d given him; it sounded useful in a thousand different ways. ¡°Will you be offended if I don¡¯t stay to visit?¡± ¡°Shoo! Go on! Get out there and take care of your important business.¡± She smiled the whole while she waved him off. Ward went to the door and called back to her, ¡°I¡¯ll try to stop by again before I leave town.¡± ¡°Do that! Also, get yourself a good grimoire before someone pickpockets those spells off ya.¡± ¡°That¡¯s just what I¡¯m planning to do right now.¡± Smiling, Ward slipped out the door. It was swollen with moisture, and he had to pull hard to get it to close properly. Brushing his hands together, he turned to the gate and briskly walked back toward town. As he put a little distance between himself and the hut, Grace appeared, walking beside him. ¡°Hey.¡± ¡°Hey, yourself. That went well, didn¡¯t it? I was impressed the old lady gave you that spell for free.¡± ¡°Not for free, Grace. She gave it to me ¡®cause I was a shitty bargainer when I went there before.¡± ¡°Well, she still could¡¯ve charged you. I would have.¡± ¡°Yeah, but you¡¯re not nice. I¡¯m nice, which makes normal people want to be nice back. See how that works?¡± ¡°Nice? I can think of a few people with aching skulls around Tarnish who might disagree! So, where next? The magical dentist?¡± ¡°Hah. Yeah, I guess so. He¡¯s an artificer, so I can ask him about a spellbook while I¡¯m checking on my bullets. Gonna inquire about a hemograph, too. I mean, a better one than I¡¯ve got. What do you think of this spell I got?¡± ¡°It certainly sounds good. If you can cast that spell on a bullet¡­¡± She trailed off, clearly savoring an imagined scenario. ¡°I bet you could make quite a trick shot.¡± ¡°Even if it doesn¡¯t work on a bullet, I could enchant my spear. The first guy who messes with me is going to regret it, right?¡± ¡°Seems like it. Let me ask you something: When you do that memorizing thing¡ªyou know, the meditative dance routine¡ªcan you tell which movements are for which words?¡± ¡°Yeah. I mean, I¡¯ve only done it once, for one spell, so I¡¯m not sure it¡¯s always like that, but when I was shifting from position to position, I could tell what words resonated. It was like¡­a harmony, I guess. I could feel when the word I focused on was responding to the movements. Why?¡± Ward nodded to the guard on duty as he walked through the gate. Traffic was light, and he wondered why that was. Were there certain days people brought things in and out of the city for trade? Were there market days? ¡°Well, if you start to learn more and more words and learn how they work, I wonder if you couldn¡¯t start to build your own spells.¡± ¡°Huh. Maybe I could! I mean, I¡¯ll know what kinds of movements to make with each word, and if I try to use them in ways similar to spells I¡¯ve already mastered¡ª¡± ¡°Exactly! At first, at least. You could try to experiment more broadly as you gain more power. Let¡¯s not get ahead of ourselves.¡± ¡°That¡¯s what I was going to say. Never know¡ªI might pick up enough new spells to keep us both happy and busy. Maybe I¡¯ll twist something out of Nevkin when I catch him.¡± ¡°Woah!¡± Grace laughed. ¡°Starting to sound more and more like me. I love it!¡± ¡°All right, I¡¯m lost. Can you guide me to the guy¡¯s shop?¡± ¡°The guy?¡± Grace pointed to the left side of the next intersection. ¡°Turn that way. His name¡¯s Mr. Frine.¡± Ward followed her directions, and after another ten minutes of pleasant strolling, he walked through the door accompanied by the ding of a distant bell. He went straight up to the counter and was already standing there, leaning one elbow on the wooden top, when the artificer stepped through a side passage obscured by a burgundy curtain. ¡°Ah! Mr. Dyer, I¡¯m pleased to see you. I¡¯ve finished one of your bullets, but I thought we should test it before I go through the trouble of crafting more.¡± ¡°One, huh? Have you been waiting long to test it? I¡¯d have liked to get those bullets in hand by tomorrow.¡± Ward tried not to frown, but he was annoyed that the man hadn¡¯t asked him to come to test the bullet sooner. ¡°I hope you¡¯ll remember our bargain¡ªyou agreed not to try to rush my process. I only finished the casing yesterday, and my friend took a bit longer than I¡¯d hoped to get the mix right on his alchemical fire. If it works, I should be able to do the other nineteen casings all at once, and they only need twelve hours or so to absorb enough mana for the inscription to catalyze.¡± When Ward only nodded, frowning, he continued, ¡°Would you care to come back to the alley to try it out? You have your pistol?¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± Ward pulled on his lapel, opening his jacket to reveal the pistol¡¯s grip. ¡°Should I walk around outside?¡± ¡°No, just follow me.¡± He gestured toward the rear of the shop, and Ward followed him out, through his little stock room, and then into the back alley. Small crates were stacked against the building beside the door, and Mr. Frine picked one up and took a few paces down the alley until he stood behind his neighbor¡¯s rear door. ¡°I¡¯ll set this crate here. If you can shoot it, the bullet should slow enough as it passes so it won¡¯t bounce far off the cobbles.¡± ¡°No, no. Put it there in front of that barrel full of scrap. That¡¯ll keep the bullet from bouncing through someone¡¯s window.¡± Ward wondered at the guy¡¯s idiotic perception of bullet ricochet mechanics. It made him want to go and buy a thick metal helmet and a breastplate¡ªwho knew when some moron would decide target practice down an open alley was a good idea. As he thought about it, he wondered why he didn¡¯t hear more shots going off. There didn¡¯t seem to be any law about it. As Frine moved the crate, he pulled his gun from its holster. ¡°Hey, I never hear people shooting around town. Is this illegal?¡± ¡°Not, per se, but the watch would likely frown on it. We¡¯ll be back inside before anyone knows where the explosion came from, don¡¯t worry.¡± ¡°Explosion?¡± Ward looked around for Grace, wanting a conspirator to share in his snark. She wasn¡¯t visible, though. ¡°Well, what do you call it when a bullet explodes from a barrel?¡± Mr. Frine asked as he returned, holding out a silver, rune-etched cartridge in the palm of his hand. The lead bullet was flat and shaped just like the one he¡¯d given the man as an exemplar, making it a close match for his other .357 rounds. It felt right in his hand and looked like a work of art with all those runes on the casing. ¡°Pretty.¡± Ward took it and held it up in the light. ¡°I¡¯d call it a gunshot, Mr. Frine,¡± he added off-handedly as he popped open the cylinder of his revolver, put the bullet into the chamber just left of the top center, and then snapped it shut. He pulled the hammer back with his thumb, rolling the cylinder so the round was under the hammer, and then he pointed the gun at the crate and gently squeezed the trigger. A thunderous boom sounded, a black cloud of smoke erupted from the gun, and a fist-sized hole exploded in the barrel above and behind the crate. He¡¯d missed a shot he could¡¯ve made blindfolded with proper ammo. ¡°Jesus Christ.¡± Ward opened and closed his mouth, trying to get his ears to pop. ¡°It works!¡± the artificer crowed, obviously delighted with his work. Ward popped open the cylinder on his gun and held it up, turning it left and right, worried he¡¯d damaged the firearm with the unorthodox ammunition. ¡°I guess, technically. It ain¡¯t pretty, though.¡± Ward snapped the cylinder shut after pulling out the casing. ¡°Doesn¡¯t look like it damaged my gun, but maybe you could lighten the load on the next ones you make. Like, twenty percent less powder.¡± ¡°Powder?¡± ¡°Yeah, the, uh, alchemical fire.¡± ¡°Oh, it¡¯s more crystalline than powdery, but sure, I can do that. I¡¯ll just pack a bit more cotton fibers into the casing to keep it from jostling around.¡± ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s good. Listen, I didn¡¯t notice anything off when I looked at the bullet, but you have to be sure the thing is exactly the same size as the example I gave you. If the lead is too narrow, it¡¯ll fit in the gun and shoot through the barrel, but the rifling won¡¯t work right. It¡¯s got to be perfect, okay?¡± ¡°Understood, sir. I¡¯ll try to have them ready for delivery tomorrow at noon. While the casing enchantments are catalyzing, I¡¯ll cast the bullets and be sure to measure them from every angle.¡± ¡°Perfect. Now, before I leave, you wouldn¡¯t happen to know anything about grimoires, would you?¡± ¡°Grimoires?¡± He looked confused for a second, but then he laughed and shook his head. ¡°Spellbooks! Naturally, I do! I keep all of my artificing runes in one. Anyone who works with mana, be they artificer, enchanter, alchemist, or¡±¡ªhe nodded to Ward¡ª"sorcerers, strive to keep their secrets safe from prying eyes. Come into my shop, and I¡¯ll show you a book I have for sale.¡± Ward followed him back inside, setting the empty cartridge on the counter when they got back to it. Mr. Frine pocketed it, then went back to his stock shelves, rummaging. ¡°That seemed really loud. Do you think it damaged your gun?¡± Grace asked, suddenly sitting on the counter beside him. Ward shrugged. ¡°I hope not. It was louder than my other bullets but didn¡¯t kick much more than usual. I think it¡¯s just the way that shitty explosive sounds.¡± ¡°What was that, sir?¡± ¡°Nothing. Just musing.¡± Grace smiled, gently tapping one of her polished nails on her chin. ¡°I am sort of like a muse, aren¡¯t I? That¡¯s what I should have called myself when we first met. I wonder how your attitude would change if you considered me a muse and not a devil?¡± ¡°Personally, I¡¯m glad you didn¡¯t lie. Let¡¯s keep things honest, yeah?¡± ¡°Sure.¡± Grace turned to regard Mr. Frine as he returned and set a sturdy, black leather book on the counter. It had fine silver hinges on the cover and four silver posts topped with knurled nuts going through the binding behind them. ¡°The book is designed so you can add and remove pages as needed. See?¡± Mr. Frine loosened the knurled nuts on the posts, then opened the cover to show Ward how the pages were loose and could be lifted off the four posts. ¡°You just put holes in your page and slip them onto those posts. I have fifty blank pages in here, but you can remove or add as many as you can fit inside the cover.¡± ¡°Nice. And is it enchanted to keep people from reading my stuff?¡± ¡°Oh yes! Look here.¡± He showed Ward a multi-layered spiral diagram of weird runes inside the cover and, at its center, a dime-sized inlaid circle of silver. ¡°Place a drop of your blood on this ritual circle, and the book will become attuned to you. Anyone else who tries to open it will find naught but blank pages.¡± Ward grinned, closing the book and pulling it closer to him on the counter. ¡°Very nice, indeed, Mr. Frine. Now, before we talk glories, what can you tell me about hemographs?¡± 44. A Good Mood 44 ¨C A Good Mood ¡°Hemographs?¡± Ward detected a note of scorn in Mr. Frine¡¯s voice. ¡°I have one, but it¡¯s been collecting dust for nearly a decade. Only sorcerers take any stock¡ª¡± His eyes bulged out behind his spectacles, and he looked at Ward as though he¡¯d just been caught with his fingers in someone else¡¯s pie. He¡¯d clearly forgotten who he was speaking to for a moment. ¡°There goes my mouth, running away from me. Of course! I have a wonderful model here. Let me go and fetch it!¡± Ward didn¡¯t mind the slip; if anything, it would help him if he decided to try to buy the hemograph, assuming it proved to be better than the one he¡¯d gotten from the dead scav. Frine bustled into the back room, and Grace cleared her throat. ¡°Seems like ¡®normal¡¯¡±¡ªshe made air quotes¡ª¡°folks don¡¯t use those things.¡± Ward leaned forward on the counter, resting his chin in his hand. ¡°I guess it wouldn¡¯t tell you a whole lot if you weren¡¯t gathering mana, changing things up from time to time. Everyone would just be a ¡®basic¡¯ human with ¡®tin¡¯ or ¡®tier-one¡¯ readings.¡± ¡°Well, make sure this guy doesn¡¯t fleece you; sounds like he hasn¡¯t been able to sell this thing¡ª¡± She clamped her mouth shut as Mr. Frine returned, carrying a small, polished wooden box about the size of a big hard-cover book. He set it down on the counter in front of Ward and rubbed a soft cloth over the rich, cherry-colored wood, brushing off some dust and exposing bright brass hinges and an inset brass knob. ¡°It¡¯s a little bulkier than some, but the artificer who traded this to me swore it was worth its weight in gold to a sorcerer like yourself.¡± Ward chuckled. ¡°My, but your tune has changed.¡± ¡°Well, to be fair¡ª¡± ¡°Now, Mr. Frine, I¡¯m a fair man; let¡¯s both speak as though we understand that neither of us wants to get fleeced. I¡¯m willing to admit that I don¡¯t think you¡¯re an idiot if you¡¯ll do the same for me.¡± He stared hard at the little man until he slowly nodded. ¡°Fair enough.¡± He touched the little burled knob. ¡°Twist this to open the lid.¡± He demonstrated, turning the knob until a click sounded, and then he lifted the lid to expose a smooth expanse of faintly green-tinted glass, beneath which Ward could see the tell-tale liquid that would spell out his readings. ¡°All of the enchantments are on the interior, beneath the aetherflux.¡± ¡°Is there a needle?¡± ¡°Ah, yes.¡± He tapped his fingernail on a small brass circle in the upper left-hand corner. ¡°If you depress this little button, allowing your finger to descend beneath the surface level, a needle will rapidly take a sample. I tried it once when I first acquired the device, and it stung, but nothing worse than the prick of a pin.¡± ¡°No way to clean the needle?¡± ¡°Why would you need to? The device carries a rather heavy charge of etheric spark. It would surely kill any germs or bacteria¡ªnothing alive could exist within it for more than a few seconds.¡± Ward was unreasonably relieved to hear the man mention germs and bacteria; he¡¯d been afraid the strange steam-age society hadn¡¯t developed an understanding of such things. ¡°Etheric spark?¡± ¡°Energy derived from the ambient mana in the air. It¡¯s what powers most devices like this.¡± ¡°Mmhmm.¡± Ward nodded, reaching for the box, turning it left and right, examining all the corners. He tilted the cover on its little hinges, ensuring none were loose. It appeared to be very well made. He gestured to the brass circle. ¡°May I try it?¡± ¡°Of course.¡± Mr. Frine looked at the device and then at Ward. He gestured toward the back room. ¡°I¡¯ll unpack some stock to give you a little privacy.¡± ¡°Much appreciated.¡± Ward watched him leave, then touched the brass ¡°button¡± with his finger. ¡°Here goes,¡± he muttered, more than a little leery of sticking his finger into the weird mechano-magical device. Grace leaned close but held her tongue as he slowly depressed the metal disc. His pointer finger had sunk into the box about a quarter of an inch when he felt a strange, static tingling. He spasmed at the sensation and pulled his finger out. ¡°You chicken!¡± Grace laughed. ¡°Come on, Ward, just do it fast. Push it down; don¡¯t think about it.¡± He sighed, ignoring her, and put his finger back on the metal. ¡°Three, two¡ª¡± Grace reached out and jammed his finger down. The metal sank, it clicked, and something stabbed his finger. It felt exactly how he thought it would: like someone stabbing a needle into his flesh. ¡°Shit!¡± he cussed, yanked his finger out, and the brass disc snapped back into place, plugging the hole. Despite his hasty withdrawal, the box came to life. The screen lit up with faint luminescence, and the aetherflux began to shift and roil as something like ticking gears sounded from within. ¡°That was an asshole move.¡± Ward stuck his finger in his mouth and watched the liquid swirl. Grace stretched out atop the counter, her nose an inch from the edge of the box, watching. ¡°I thought it was funny.¡± ¡°You think it¡¯ll show as much as Maggie¡¯s?¡± The aetherflux had begun to glow and separate, forming lines and whorls, the component pieces of words and letters shifting toward each other. ¡°No idea, but I hope so. I like the green color of this one; it¡¯s pretty.¡± Ward snorted, but before he could think of a response, the glowing, liquid numbers and letters displayed his readings in a neat, orderly table:
First reading detected ¨C storing results in cognicrystal for future comparison.
Bloodline: Awakened Human Aetherborn Traces Lycan Traces [Unknown] Traces
Accumulated Mana: 92
Mana Distribution: Natural No allocation enchantments detected.
Mana Well: Tier 3 31% to next tier Enhanced regeneration - minor
Mana Sensitivity: This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. Tier 4 Bloodline Dependent
Mana Pathways: Tier 2 Bloodline Dependent
Vessel Capacity: Tier 2 Bloodline Dependent
Vessel Durability: Tier 2 52% to next tier Enhanced healing rate ¨C minor Enhanced bone density ¨C minor
Vessel Strength: Tier 2 39% to next tier
Vessel Speed: Tier 2 36% to next tier
Longevity remaining: 65% Tier 2 Depletion Rate ¨C (Approximate)
Anima Heart: Tier 1 Closed Pathways Detected
Anima: Nil
¡°Ward,¡± Grace said, her voice hushed, ¡°you need to buy this.¡± ¡°Are you seeing all this? What the hell does ¡®Aetherborn¡¯ mean? What about ¡®Lycan¡¯? As in lycanthrope?¡± Ward had watched his share of goofy werewolf and vampire shows. ¡°I, um, I don¡¯t know.¡± Grace pointed to the extra details in the third column. ¡°Maybe those ¡®traces¡¯ have something to do with these ¡®enhanced¡¯ things.¡± Ward was still scanning the report. ¡°Look next to the ¡®anima heart¡¯ reading. ¡®Pathways detected.¡¯ That¡¯s interesting, right? You think it has something to do with how a person can regain anima?¡± ¡°I hope so, but, Ward, I promise you I¡¯m not holding anything back when I say I don¡¯t have a flippin¡¯ clue.¡± She sounded sincere, and Ward wanted to believe her, but he found her almost innately difficult to trust. He supposed it had a lot to do with how they¡¯d met and how she¡¯d initially lied about his anima¡ªsupposing the story she¡¯d most recently spun about her uncle was even the truth. He tuned her out and regarded the data on the hemograph. It was certainly easier to read and provided more information than the one he¡¯d gotten from the scavs. He wanted it but didn¡¯t want to spend the rest of his glories. Ward still had more than four thousand, but he¡¯d need to give a thousand of those to Frine when he picked up his bullets. After that and settling up his debts at the inn, he figured he¡¯d have around three thousand remaining. It sounded like a lot, but he¡¯d burn through it pretty fast if he didn¡¯t have more income. Thinking of income, he remembered the little pouch of stolen jewelry he¡¯d found under the floorboard. That little windfall made him feel better about potentially squandering a chunk of glories on the hemograph. ¡°Mr. Frine?¡± he called. The curtain swished, and the little artificer approached almost immediately. ¡°Satisfied with its quality?¡± Ward had been around the block enough to know better than to gush about how much he liked something he wanted to buy. ¡°It¡¯s lacking a few details I¡¯d been hoping for. You say you traded for this? You didn¡¯t craft it?¡± ¡°That¡¯s right. I¡¯m afraid those devices are a bit beyond me.¡± He frowned. ¡°Are you saying you¡¯re not interested?¡± ¡°Well, I think it¡¯ll do in a pinch.¡± Ward shrugged and sighed. ¡°What were you hoping to get for it?¡± ¡°Such enchantments don¡¯t come cheaply, Mr. Dyer. Even the aetherflux is something I¡¯d have to order in from Port Granite¡ªnone of the alchemists in this town could produce such a high-quality mix.¡± He leaned toward the hemograph, and Ward closed the cover, obscuring his readings. Mr. Frine covered his interest by reaching up to scratch a bushy gray sideburn. ¡°I¡¯d need to see five thousand to recoup my investment.¡± ¡°Five thousand? Glories?¡± Ward scoffed and pushed the device toward the little man. ¡°I¡¯ll do my shopping in Port Granite, I suppose.¡± He turned toward the door, but Frine spoke up, waving a hand as his voice rose in protest. ¡°Now, wait just a moment, Mr. Dyer!¡± When Ward turned back toward him with an arched eyebrow, he continued, ¡°I¡¯m not making any glories with this sitting on a shelf in the back. I suppose I can offer a discount for a repeat customer.¡± ¡°I¡¯m listening.¡± Ward stepped back to the counter. ¡°Well, the goods I traded for this might have had a retail value of nearly five thousand glories, but, in truth, they only cost me closer to three to produce. Could you see your way to paying that much?¡± ¡°Three thousand?¡± Ward rubbed his chin. ¡°How about this: Let¡¯s knock three hundred off that¡ªten percent¡ªconsidering you haven¡¯t been able to sell this device for, as you put it, ¡®nearly a decade.¡¯ Now,¡± Ward held up a hand, forestalling Frine¡¯s response, ¡°with us both agreeing on a value of twenty-seven hundred, I¡¯d like to offer my old hemograph to you in trade; if you¡¯ll give me a thousand glories in credit for it, we can shake hands right now.¡± Frine frowned, placing his small, dexterous hands on the hemograph and pulling it toward himself. ¡°You¡¯re offering me an old hemograph and seventeen hundred? Is that right?¡± Ward shrugged. ¡°That¡¯s seventeen hundred more than you had yesterday, right? Not to mention, you¡¯ll still have a hemograph in stock on the off chance another sorcerer stops by.¡± ¡°It works?¡± ¡°Oh yes¡ªperfectly; it just doesn¡¯t provide some of the detail this one does.¡± ¡°And you¡¯ll still pay a thousand for your bullets and the extra alchemical fire?¡± His tone made Ward reconsider the deal; in hindsight, a thousand glories for twenty bullets, enchanted or not, seemed like a lot. Ward swallowed the thought and nodded, holding out his hand. ¡°Deal?¡± Frine frowned but nodded, clasping Ward¡¯s hand. ¡°I¡¯m not particularly pleased by the bargain, but, as you said¡­¡± He trailed off, and Ward chuckled. ¡°Listen, that¡¯s how you know we made a good deal; neither of us is perfectly happy. You think I like the idea of leaving nearly three thousand glories in your shop?¡± ¡°Yes, yes. I¡¯m well-versed in the dilemma of good sales. Well,¡± he pulled the device toward him, ¡°I¡¯ll hand this over when you pick up your bullets, hey?¡± ¡°Right. I¡¯ll bring my other hemograph at that time. One moment.¡± Ward lifted the cover on the hemograph, ensuring the aetherflux had cleared away his reading¡ªit had. ¡°Excellent. All right, see you tomorrow, Mr. Frine.¡± The little man nodded. ¡°Tomorrow.¡± When Ward stepped outside, his new ¡°grimoire¡± tucked under his arm, he took a deep breath and smiled, savoring the fresh air, the bright sunshine, and the hint of woodsmoke on the breeze. ¡°I like it here.¡± ¡°Why wouldn¡¯t you? Everything¡¯s going your way.¡± ¡°Everything?¡± Ward scowled at her, unwilling to share his good mood with his oft-times unwelcome passenger. ¡°I mean, I guess you¡¯re right, other than the fact that you stole my chance at an afterlife.¡± ¡°Are you ever going to let that go?¡± ¡°It¡¯s hard to forget, Grace. I suppose if I find out you haven¡¯t been lying to me about anything else, and we figure out a way to fix the issue¡­yeah, I guess I could let it go.¡± ¡°Whatever.¡± Grace hopped down the steps to the cobbled street. ¡°What¡¯s next?¡± ¡°Let¡¯s see about a nice, roomy new backpack.¡± ¡°I saw an outfitter¡¯s shop on the way back to the inn.¡± ¡°You mean I saw an outfitter¡¯s shop.¡± Ward followed her down to the street, then turned left, moving toward the store he had in mind. ¡°It¡¯s called teamwork, Ward; no need to claim credit for every little thing.¡± Ward nodded, whistling a tune, the origin of which he couldn¡¯t recall, and, despite everything, including his missing anima, he smiled, savoring his good mood. 45. The Purpose of Existence 45 ¨C The Purpose for Existence Back in the inn, Ward sat in one of the comfortable armchairs near the fireplace and took some time, using shears he¡¯d borrowed from Fan¡¯s kitchen, to trim his two spell pages and put them into his new grimoire. The copper sheet was so thin that the steel shears cut right through it, and a little work with the tip of a knife made holes for it to slip into the book. The page he¡¯d gotten from Maggie was already perfectly sized, so in just a few minutes, he buttoned up the spellbook, screwing down the silver thumb nuts to hold the pages flat in the binding. He held the book up, turning it to see it from all angles, admiring the soft leather cover, the fine stitching, and the weird, barely visible runes that covered so much of its surface, especially inside the covers. It was about five inches by eight but only about half an inch thick with the current load of pages. ¡°Interesting book you¡¯ve got there.¡± Ward looked up to see Fay approaching, carrying a big glass of beer. ¡°Yeah, I picked it up today. Was just thinking about whether it would be uncomfortable in my coat¡¯s inner pocket.¡± ¡°Brought you some beer.¡± When Ward took it, she leaned close and said, far more quietly, ¡°I¡¯m sorry I was being weird earlier. I know you don¡¯t have a thing with Haley. I mean, not like that. She told me. I think I was acting out ¡®cause I know you¡¯re leaving, and it makes me think about my life¡­¡± ¡°You don¡¯t need to explain.¡± Ward sipped the beer, and as he swallowed, he shook his head. ¡°You¡¯ve been great. I probably should apologize; I¡¯m sure I¡¯ve missed some social cues and said some boneheaded things.¡± ¡°You see? There you go again, saying the right thing, making me feel all flustered.¡± She frowned, still leaning close. ¡°Are you truly leaving tomorrow?¡± Ward sighed, fearing the conversation was about to take a turn for the worse. ¡°I¡¯m not certain. We want to get after this Nevkin guy who stole from us and left behind these thugs to kill us, so, yeah, it¡¯s best if we leave soon.¡± He shrugged. ¡°Depends on if Haley gets back with her horses.¡± ¡°Well, if you¡¯re likely to leave tomorrow, can I steal some of your time tonight? I¡¯d like to make the most of it.¡± ¡°Oh?¡± Ward hadn¡¯t expected that. ¡°As in¡­¡± ¡°As in, let¡¯s take a walk, get something to eat, and see what happens?¡± ¡°How could I say no?¡± Fay smiled, her new silver teeth winking in the light. Ward could see the tiny runes, so similar, yet so different from the ones on his spellbook, etched into their surface. ¡°Meet me down here at six? Fan will let me go at about five-thirty.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll be waiting.¡± At his words, Fay leaned forward and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. When she straightened up, she reached down and rubbed the spot with her thumb, grinning. ¡°You could use a shave.¡± Ward¡¯s smile broadened as blood rushed to his head and tingles danced on the nape of his neck. ¡°I¡¯ll get cleaned up.¡± Fay winked at him, then, in a waft of lavender-scented air, she brushed past him back to the bar half of the inn. Naturally, Grace took that moment to appear, sitting cross-legged on the floor, looking up at him with an arched eyebrow. ¡°Someone¡¯s getting lucky tonight.¡± ¡°Aw, c¡¯mon. I doubt it; she just likes to flirt.¡± ¡°I doubt that. Sexy stranger staying at the inn, making her horny all week, and now he¡¯s leaving in the morning? She¡¯ll make a move, mark my words.¡± ¡°Sexy, huh?¡± ¡°Oh, lord! I meant to her, Ward. Your stranger status bumps you up a few notches.¡± Ward chugged the rest of his beer, stood, and stretched. ¡°Stranger status, huh? I¡¯ll take it.¡± With an undeniable spring in his step, he went up to his room and stripped down to his new undergarments. He was going to clean up, but first, he wanted to do some spell memorizing. He didn¡¯t know how it would work to try to hold both of the spells he knew in his head at once, but he intended to find out. He sat on the rug beside his bed and opened his new grimoire to the back page¡ªhe¡¯d put the copper spell page there. He studied the words and movements, and then, just as he¡¯d done before, he meditated, working to clear his mind, focusing on his breathing, and trying to find his heartbeat. It came to him much more easily than the last time, and the progress encouraged him, buoying his efforts to memorize the spell. Once again, using his heart as a timer, he began to do the meditative positions, moving through the forms, focusing on the strange words of power, saying them over and over, like a mantra, ¡°Shrovak gnyrath.¡± Though he repeated the words in his head, they had an odd, irregular cadence thanks to the forms he was moving his body through¡ªtimed to the marks beneath each symbol. Still, this wasn¡¯t the first time he¡¯d memorized this spell; it wasn¡¯t the first time he¡¯d built it in his mind, and things felt easier. Everything came together more quickly. In only ten or fifteen minutes¡ªhe couldn¡¯t be sure exactly how long¡ªhe felt the spell pattern snap together, solid and tangible in his mind. Looking at it, he felt some dread. It felt like he was staring at something sharp he wanted to grab but knew would cut him. ¡°Well, that¡¯s one down.¡± Ward flipped back to the front of his spellbook to the spell he¡¯d copied from Maggie. ¡°You already got the secrets one ready?¡± ¡°Yep. Seemed a lot easier this time¡ªstill looks dangerous in my head, though.¡± ¡°Well, you haven¡¯t improved yourself since the first casting, have you?¡± ¡°Guess not.¡± Ward shrugged, studying the new spell, saying the words softly a few times, ¡°Ghruvon truvik prakhun,¡± while he studied the timings. When he felt ready, he closed his eyes and slipped back into meditation, finding his heartbeat, emptying his mind, and getting ready to start moving through the new forms. He knew Grace was watching him, but he didn¡¯t care; as soon as he got into the mantra of the spell, the movements of the forms, and the timing of his heartbeat, he lost track of everything around him. The new spell was longer than the first, but it was far, far easier; the forms were much more comfortable, his body less contorted, the rhythm of the words¡¯ syllables seemed almost intuitive, and it only took him a few times through the process before he felt it¡ªlike a shiver down his spine and the relief of a sneeze, the spell snapped into solidity within his mind¡¯s eye. He could see it there, like neon-yellow curves in the darkness, hanging in the shadow of the first spell¡¯s sharp, glinting angles. Ward stared at the new spell, contemplating the words, feeling them itch the back of his tongue, wanting to be released. He didn¡¯t sense anything dangerous about it. ¡°I can cast this one without being hurt,¡± he announced. ¡°You¡¯re sure?¡± ¡°Yeah; it¡¯s like¡­¡± Ward trailed off, trying to think of the right words. ¡°It¡¯s almost like it¡¯s a friendly, well-trained dog, while the other one¡¯s a bigger, meaner stray I found on the street.¡± ¡°Colorful.¡± Grace frowned, looking around the room. ¡°You should get a sword. That spear¡¯s too big to haul all over the place, and face it¡ªthat pistol won¡¯t be much use as you move through the challenges. I wasn¡¯t too impressed with the bullet that guy made¡­¡± ¡°I mean, I¡¯d buy one of the local firearms, but they¡¯re even worse. I¡¯ll keep my gun for now, but I get your meaning. I should find something a little more reliable. I¡¯m still hoping that when we get to a bigger city or maybe the next world, I¡¯ll find someone who can enchant a pistol or bullets that measure up to my old ones.¡± If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. ¡°Possible.¡± Grace tapped her chin in thought. ¡°My knife¡¯s good enough for the moment, though.¡± Ward stood, walked over to the chest at the foot of his bed where he¡¯d put his belt, and drew the big buck knife from its sheath. ¡°Let¡¯s see how this works.¡± Grace leaned close as Ward stared at the knife. The blade was about eight inches long, single-edged, with a deep fuller down the center. It was made of steel, well-oiled, and damn sharp. Ward concentrated on the blade, then looked into his mind at the spells he had there. He focused on the ¡°true strike¡± spell and said the words. They rushed to his tongue and flew from his lips, echoing off the walls and shivering against the glass windows as they pinged into the steel of the blade. Ward¡¯s eyes flew wide as he saw them etch themselves into the steel with bright yellow sparkles that slowly dimmed but never entirely disappeared. The knife quivered in his palm, ready to unleash the magic he¡¯d put inside it. ¡°Badass,¡± he hissed, waving the eager blade before himself, listening to it sing as it sliced the air. ¡°I won¡¯t lie¡ªthat was very frickin¡¯ cool!¡± Grace¡¯s eyes zeroed in on the knife, staring at those glimmering runes. ¡°It¡¯ll stay ready until you use it?¡± ¡°I guess so. According to Maggie¡¯s spell book, her old grandma or aunt or something kept the spell ready on a club she had by her front door.¡± Ward carefully sheathed the knife, then looked inward, surprised to see the spell still in his mind. He was confident he could cast it again. ¡°I still have the spell in my head!¡± ¡°Maggie said you¡¯d be able to cast some spells more than once; the easier they get for you, the easier it is to hold onto the words.¡± ¡°Right.¡± Ward gathered some clean clothes and the little leather shaving kit he¡¯d bought the other day. It contained a piece of hard, earthy-smelling soap, a boar-hair brush, a straight razor, and a leather strop. Ward had a thick beard, and he¡¯d spent far too much time in his life trying different ways to shave it. Electric razors never did the trick, and cheap disposables gave him a nasty razor burn. He¡¯d used shaving soaps before. He¡¯d even gone through a phase where he¡¯d spent a lot of time learning to use a straight razor without butchering himself, so the kit he¡¯d bought wasn¡¯t as daunting as it might have been. He took a washcloth with him to the tub, and when he was soaking in hot, steamy water, he draped the hot cloth over his face, letting his stubble absorb the moisture. He soaked like that for a while, taking much longer than he had to; he loved a hot bath, especially when it was cold outside. ¡°Too bad I can¡¯t shave you; I¡¯ve been in mostly male hosts and witnessed thousands of shaves. I bet you¡¯d sleep like a baby there if I could¡ª¡± Ward yawned at the mention of sleep, interrupting her. He chuckled, narrowing his eyes. ¡°I¡¯m not supposed to be sleeping. Any idea of the time, by the way?¡± ¡°Still early afternoon.¡± Ward took the washcloth off his face, dipped it back into the hot water, and reapplied it. ¡°Not looking forward to the straight razor. It¡¯s been a while.¡± ¡°Just remember to let the blade do the work. Take slow, smooth strokes¡ª¡± ¡°I know. It¡¯s just something that takes practice to get right.¡± ¡°You know, Ward, I¡¯m proud of you.¡± ¡°For knowing how to shave?¡± ¡°No, dummy! I¡¯m proud of you for not freaking out about me being here while you¡¯re in the tub!¡± Ward sighed, looking down at his exposed body and then over at Grace, sitting atop the counter a few feet away. ¡°It¡¯s a losing battle.¡± ¡°Recognizing the futility of a battle is one way to win it!¡± ¡°I¡­¡± Ward shook his head, sighing again. ¡°I don¡¯t think that exactly makes sense.¡± He leaned forward, pulled the drain plug, and snatched up his towel. A few minutes later, he leaned over the counter, painstakingly shaving away his accumulated stubble. He got through the process a lot better than he¡¯d feared. He wasn¡¯t sure why; maybe the razor was sharper, his hands were steadier, or his skin was tougher. Maybe it was some combination of it all. In any case, he only had to press the washcloth against a couple of nicks, and they stopped bleeding quickly. When he was dressed in clean clothes and had his belt and shoulder holster on, he swung his jacket over his shoulders, put his hat atop his head, and hustled out of the inn. He wanted to run an errand before his date with Fay. ¡°Where are we going?¡± Grace walked in front of him, taking backward steps, and even though he knew she couldn¡¯t bump into anyone, it made him nervous. His stress soon faded, though, as she managed to sidestep everyone they approached, and Ward remembered she saw things from his eyes. ¡°I figured I¡¯d buy her a flower.¡± ¡°Oh, my God! You¡¯re so old!¡± ¡°Ah, put a sock in it! You¡¯re ten times older than I am.¡± Ward frowned. ¡°At least! Don¡¯t tell me Christina wouldn¡¯t have liked getting a flower from a date.¡± ¡°Christina? She wasn¡¯t interested in dates, but I suppose she liked flowers.¡± Grace grinned wickedly, and Ward braced himself for whatever twisted thought she was about to voice. ¡°So tell me, Ward, do you relish the idea of being a father?¡± ¡°Oh, Jesus!¡± ¡°What? If you get lucky, and I¡¯m pretty sure you will, you know this girl will probably try to get pregnant. I mean, why else would she want to sleep with the mysterious, powerful stranger who¡¯s leaving in the morning? A kid will give her a hold over you, a reason for you to have to return. Don¡¯t blush! You¡¯re not a choirboy. You know how these things work.¡± ¡°She¡¯s not like that.¡± ¡°Okay, suppose you¡¯re right. Accidents happen. Do you think she¡¯s on any kind of birth control? Is that a thing in this world?¡± Ward didn¡¯t answer, but he frowned, annoyed that her words had struck a chord. Annoyed that the ¡°date¡± he¡¯d been looking forward to was suddenly tinted with dread. Did he want to ask Fay that kind of thing in the moment? Ward had reached the nearest market square¡ªa stand selling herbs and flowers, his initial target. He paused, though, and looked around the square at the various stalls and then along the perimeter at the more permanent shops. He let his gaze pass over the array of businesses: a blacksmith, two bakeries, a butcher, a fishmonger, a leather shop, a stationary store, a dozen farmer¡¯s stalls, street food vendors, trinket carts, and, finally, an apothecary. Ward strode toward it. Inside, between racks of drying herbs, through a haze of odors he couldn¡¯t begin to identify, he made his way to the counter and the black-haired, jackal-like proprietor. Ward cleared his throat. ¡°Good afternoon.¡± ¡°Traveler.¡± The voice reminded him of the scavenger he¡¯d met on his first day with Grace, the one whose brother he¡¯d killed¡ªLizzy. Still, this person was older and shorter, so he tried to shake off the weird feeling of familiarity. ¡°I, uh, have a kind of awkward question.¡± Ward sighed and walked closer, wishing the shopkeeper had been a man for some stupid reason. ¡°I don¡¯t have a love potion¡­¡± ¡°Uh, that¡¯s not what I¡¯m needing. I think the attraction is already there if you get my meaning.¡± She stared at him with big, glassy, unblinking brown eyes. ¡°See, I¡¯m from a different world, and things were¡­different there. Can you tell me, is birth control a thing here? Um, contraception?¡± The woman¡¯s canine features gave her leering grin a particularly biting edge as she chuckled softly. ¡°You¡¯re wondering if there¡¯s a way to prevent pregnancies? Do they not have barren-bloom essence in your world?¡± ¡°Barren-bloom?¡± ¡°Aye, silly lad. An alchemical mixture, a drink of which will render a man or woman infertile for up to a week, depending on his or her constitution.¡± She eyed him up and down. ¡°In your case, I wouldn¡¯t trust it more than three days or so.¡± ¡°Oh really? Man or woman?¡± ¡°That¡¯s right. I don¡¯t sell it, but an alchemist on the next block, just north of here, will have some. If you want it to work tonight, I¡¯d get it quickly. It takes a few hours for full potency.¡± She laughed and clapped Ward on the shoulder. ¡°Do I know the lucky lass?¡± ¡°No idea. Um, I don¡¯t think so.¡± Ward dug into his coat pocket, took out a five-glory coin, and set it on the counter. ¡°For your time and discretion.¡± ¡°Oh? Paying old Mezza for her silence? Might take a few more glories.¡± When Ward put another coin down, this one worth ten glories, her wolfish grin widened, and she scooped it up. Ward tipped his hat and left the shop, his neck hot, annoyed that he¡¯d been embarrassed. What the hell was he? A schoolboy? When he saw Grace standing there, grinning at him, he scowled. ¡°What? I don¡¯t know what the hell¡¯s going on with me, but I¡¯m acting like a college kid about to get laid for the first time. I¡¯m not loving it.¡± Ward oriented himself to the north and started stomping that way before Grace could respond. She hurried behind him. ¡°Ward, you weren¡¯t exactly getting busy regularly back on Earth, were you?¡± ¡°Nah, not regularly.¡± He shrugged. ¡°Still, I haven¡¯t been this¡ª¡± He cut himself off, grimaced, shrugged his shoulders, rolled his neck, and furiously took his jacket off, suddenly feeling hot. ¡°I haven¡¯t felt this wound up and¡ªJesus, I dunno, emotional in a long damn time.¡± ¡°Your body¡¯s young again. You¡¯re full of hormones and energy! Your old brain¡¯s struggling against it ¡®cause you¡¯ve got experience, and you know it¡¯s silly, but your instincts are telling you you¡¯re about to get a chance to propagate the species. As far as your body is concerned, this is the apex of your evolution, the purpose of your existence! Just take it slow, old man, one step at a time. If you play your cards right, we might just get lucky, and now you don¡¯t have to worry about leaving a kid behind.¡± ¡°We, Grace?¡± ¡°Think about it, Ward.¡± She winked at him, then turned and skipped ahead, disappearing from sight, leaving him with an open mouth. Suddenly, part of him hoped Fay would just flirt some more and leave things nice and platonic. 46. In a Rush 46 ¨C In a Rush When Ward woke the following day, he did so in a warm bed with a warm sleeping companion, and he couldn¡¯t imagine feeling better about life. No, that wasn¡¯t true, he reasoned, shifting on his pillow to better look at Fay¡¯s slumbering countenance. Things were good at that moment, with his health and his love life, but he¡¯d rather not have to leave to hunt down a thief and a murderer. Still, he¡¯d lived long enough to grasp onto the small victories in life and savor them. Having the affection of a sweet, beautiful woman, no matter how fleeting, was cause for celebration in his book. ¡°That was quite a night,¡± Grace said. Ward squinted into the shadows of pre-dawn light, saw her sitting at the foot of the bed, and scowled. In the heat of the moment, he¡¯d caught glimpses, or, no, that was the wrong word; he¡¯d felt her. He¡¯d known she was ¡°present¡± while he and Fay had been in the throes of passion, but he hadn¡¯t been able to make himself care¡ªsome biological imperatives made ignoring an unwanted presence a little too easy. Now, with his libido cooled, he wanted to tell her off, but he also wanted to let Fay sleep. Hoping it would sting more than an insult, he closed his eyes and put his head back on the pillow, ignoring her. The bed was too comfortable, too warm, and he drifted back to sleep. The next time his eyes opened, he was alone in the bed. He yawned hugely and sat up, looking around. There wasn¡¯t any sign of Fay, but he supposed he shouldn¡¯t be surprised; she was probably down in the kitchen helping Fan with the morning rush. He slid out of bed, took a hot bath, dressed in another set of new clothes, and then went downstairs. As he¡¯d suspected, it was busy. It had to be mid-morning, much later than he was used to getting up, so he grabbed one of the few empty tables, a small one near the stairs, then leaned back and took in the crowd. He recognized some of the inn¡¯s regulars and some travelers he¡¯d encountered previously. He also saw a lot of faces he wasn¡¯t familiar with, and he wondered if some locals regularly came by the inn for meals. He caught a glimpse of Fay dropping off some plates closer to the bar, but she hadn¡¯t noticed him yet. He smiled at the sight of her, amazed that someone so full of life and so¡­appealing had wanted to be with him. He noticed movement in the corner of his eye and turned to see Grace leaning back in the chair opposite his. ¡°You are ridiculous.¡± ¡°Ah, there she is.¡± Ward sighed and shook his head. ¡°I shouldn¡¯t speak to you.¡± ¡°What? You can¡¯t blame me for last night. It¡¯s not easy staying hidden, staying tucked away in that skull of yours when big things are happening¡ªwhen your emotions are roiling, and your¡­ body is¡­engorged with passion. I thought I did a good job staying out of sight.¡± Her pauses before choosing her words were, Ward had to admit, kind of funny. On his way down from the room, he''d decided to let things go, anyway. What was the point of holding a grudge? Maybe she wasn¡¯t lying; maybe it was hard to stay ¡°hidden.¡± ¡°Well, I noticed you. Anyway, forget it; not worth ruining the morning over.¡± ¡°Very mature, Ward.¡± She made a show of looking over her shoulder, narrowing her eyes as she spotted Fay still talking to a customer near the bar. ¡°Are we not wanting to talk about things? ¡®Cause that was something else. I was pretty impressed with your stamina, considering the moves she was pulling¡ª¡± ¡°All right, all right. I said I forget it, not,¡± Ward waved his hand like he was shooing a fly, ¡°whatever this is.¡± ¡°Fine. I wonder if she¡¯s going to be as cool today while you¡¯re heading out as she was yesterday. You reckon she¡¯s expecting you to change your future plans now that you¡¯ve had a taste of¡ª¡± ¡°Damn it, Grace. Can you just chill?¡± She sighed and leaned forward onto the table, resting her chin on her folded arms. ¡°Oh, fine. You think Haley will make it back today?¡± ¡°She seemed to think she would. I hope so.¡± Ward couldn¡¯t deny that he was enjoying himself in Tarnish, especially now that the hired killers had been dealt with, but he felt an urgency in his gut, a need to get moving and pick up Nevkin¡¯s trail. He was saved from Grace¡¯s next question when Fay laid eyes on him and started across the common room, wending her way between tables and fending off comments and questions from other patrons. ¡°Good morning, sleepy,¡± she said, clenching her hands before herself almost coyly. ¡°Hey.¡± Ward started to stand, and it must have been clear from his posture or facial expression that he meant to hug or kiss her, and she hurried forward, pushing against his shoulder, urging him to stay seated. ¡°No need to get up or make a scene, lover.¡± She winked at him. ¡°Can¡¯t go ruining a girl¡¯s reputation when you¡¯re about to skip town, right?¡± ¡°Ah!¡± Ward felt his cheeks flush. ¡°Right. Yeah.¡± Fay took pity on him and leaned down to kiss his forehead. ¡°If you were sticking around, I¡¯d shout it from the rooftops, but let¡¯s keep things simple, hmm? I already spent the morning fending off Fan¡¯s questions.¡± ¡°Sure, yeah, no worries.¡± Ward took her hand, the one on his shoulder, and gave it a squeeze. ¡°Hungry? I bet you are.¡± She winked at him, gently, surreptitiously, rubbing her thumb against his palm. Then she turned and sauntered toward the kitchen. ¡°Wow. Imagine that!¡± Grace laughed. ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure you got used last night, my friend.¡± ¡°Eh, worse things have happened.¡± Ward couldn¡¯t stop the grin on his face. He¡¯d secretly dreaded that Fay would be different this morning, that she¡¯d be less okay with the transient nature of their encounter. It seemed he wasn¡¯t the only one with motives. ¡°Um, just for the record, I know I give you a lot of grief, but I think you¡¯re a pretty stand-up guy. Plenty of men in your shoes might have slipped out a window rather than come down here to see how things would shake out.¡± ¡°That¡¯s a decent thing¡ª¡± Ward started to say but cut himself off as the door jingled, and Haley stepped into the inn, stomping her boots and pulling off a long, hooded cape. She scanned the room, and Ward couldn¡¯t help thinking her face looked wan and gaunt, her eyes harried. When she saw him, she strode purposefully across the room toward his table, aiming for the empty chair. When she drew near, he could smell the musty scent of animals and the ozone-rich odor of the wind. ¡°Ward,¡± she said, pulling out the chair Grace had been occupying and sitting down. ¡°We need to get on the road¡ªI¡¯ve got some people pursuing me.¡± ¡°Huh?¡± Ward had barely processed her coming into the inn. The idea that she was being chased seemed too strange to slot into his relaxed, morning mind. ¡°A cousin. Distant. He tried to lay claim to my parents¡¯ holdings back in the valley. Said my father borrowed money a few years back and that the stables and country estate belonged to him now. He wasn¡¯t pleased when I browbeat his steward into letting me take some horses and tack. Well,¡± she frowned and shrugged, ¡°and some of my mother¡¯s jewelry and my father¡¯s sword.¡± ¡°Well, fuck that guy! Who would do that to a grieving daughter?¡± ¡°Sonder would. Sonder Yates is my father¡¯s sister¡¯s fourth son and the biggest bastard in the Copper Valley. I was leading the mounts up the back trail on the far side of my folks¡¯ property when I caught sight of his men and their hounds. That was last night, and I rode hard straight here, trading mounts frequently to give them rest.¡± ¡°Jesus. Seriously? Well, let them catch up. I¡¯ll have your back, and we can get the guard in on this. You didn¡¯t do anything wro¡ª¡± ¡°No!¡± Haley interrupted. ¡°Ward, he has legal documents to back up his claim. The steward was adamant; Sonder sent a bailiff around, announcing the claim and his intention to catalog and auction my parents¡¯ things. I had to threaten him to get into my parents¡¯ vault, and I took¡­¡± She looked around and lowered her voice. ¡°The sword I took is enchanted. It¡¯s probably worth more than the country house.¡± ¡°Where is it?¡± Grace asked, and Ward had to admit it was a good question. ¡°Where is it?¡± he echoed. ¡°On my saddle just outside. I gave Tiff a few glories to hold them ready. We need to get going.¡± Ward had to think for a moment to remember Tiff was one of the stable hands Fan employed. ¡°How far are they going to chase us?¡± Ward stood up, pushing his chair out. ¡°I don¡¯t know. Not forever; they¡¯re just mercenaries. They won¡¯t want to travel too far beyond Tarnish.¡± ¡°Dammit,¡± Ward grunted, pushing his chair in. ¡°I¡¯m sorry! I know you probably weren¡¯t ready to leave right now.¡± ¡°Nah, it¡¯s not that. The guy making my bullets isn¡¯t done yet.¡± You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author. ¡°Let¡¯s ride by his shop on the way out.¡± Haley was already walking to the door, and Ward wondered why she was so worried about a few hired mercenaries. Was it that, or was she worried they¡¯d get the law on their side, and then she¡¯d have a problem she and Ward couldn¡¯t handle? ¡°I take it you won¡¯t give up what you took?¡± ¡°Never!¡± She whirled to glare at him, speaking so sharply that the guy sitting at a nearby table almost choked on his eggs. Ward held out his hands placatingly. ¡°Easy. I get it. I gotta get my things, so maybe step outside and make sure no one messes with your horses.¡± She nodded and walked out, and Ward turned to the stairs. He¡¯d just taken his first step up when Fay hurried over, calling, ¡°Ward!¡± ¡°Stay strong!¡± Grace giggled, sitting atop the banister rail. Ward turned to Fay and saw her flushed cheeks, slightly mussed hair, and the glint of her silver teeth as she smiled. ¡°Not staying for breakfast?¡± ¡°Fay, yeah, I¡¯m sorry, but I have to leave sooner than I¡¯d hoped.¡± ¡°Now?¡± Her eyes widened. ¡°Haley just got back to town and has a kind of emergency. We have to head out.¡± ¡°Care to elaborate?¡± ¡°Can¡¯t really. Better if I don¡¯t, at least.¡± He shrugged, trying to look apologetic. ¡°Well, let¡¯s go up. I¡¯ll say goodbye upstairs.¡± At the idea of being alone with her again, Ward felt an electric tingle of excitement, and he found himself shaking his head ruefully as he took the stairs two at a time. ¡°You aren¡¯t going to¡ª¡± Grace started to say, but then she shook her head and laughed. ¡°Well, a quick one might not hurt!¡± Despite Grace¡¯s interpretation of Fay¡¯s words and Ward¡¯s admittedly overzealous reaction, Fay had other ideas. As soon as they were off the landing, in the shadowy hallway, she grabbed Ward and pulled him into a hug. ¡°I¡¯ll miss you, Ward. I hope you come back this way again someday.¡± Ward wrapped his arms around her, almost relieved that this was a simple goodbye. ¡°I¡¯ll miss you too, Fay. Thank you for helping me remember how great life can be.¡± ¡°Shh.¡± She reached up to lightly grip the back of his jaw with her fingertips, pulling his face close. They kissed long and deep, and Ward savored the sensation, wondering if he¡¯d ever kiss someone so sweet again. Her lips were better than anything he could remember, and when she pulled away, he tried to follow, stooping forward further and further as she laughed and retreated. ¡°Thank you too, Ward. You were thoughtful and kind and ever so much fun.¡± Without another word, she turned and disappeared down the stairs. ¡°Wow,¡± Ward sighed, inhaling deeply, trying to remember what he was supposed to be doing. Grace came to the rescue, ¡°Okay, I¡¯ll hand it to you; you did a number on that woman. Well, she did a number on you too. Come on, Ward! Daylight¡¯s burning! Get your stuff!¡± Five minutes later, Ward stood on the front stoop of The Hen¡¯s Nest, his new leather backpack, stuffed with all his clothes and other belongings, on his back. His new hat shaded his eyes, and he held his long, sturdy spear in one hand, looking down at the cobbled street where Haley sat with her two horses. They were beautiful animals, both decked out with fine, polished leather tack, and bearing comfortable-looking, tooled leather saddles. Haley sat atop a bay mare with a gorgeous, flowing mane, and, just as she¡¯d promised, she held the reins of a proud, tall dun stallion with a white star on his forehead. ¡°I haven¡¯t ridden since I was a kid, and I wasn¡¯t exactly good at it.¡± ¡°Well, I¡¯ll give you some pointers,¡± Grace said, nudging him. He¡¯d taken one step when the door slammed open, and Fan stormed out of the inn. ¡°Leaving without a word? You scoundrel!¡± She held a big wooden spoon in one hand and lifted it threateningly. ¡°Oh, shit, Fan! I meant to say goodbye but got all mixed up¡ªHaley¡¯s got a bit of an emergency, you see¡ª¡± ¡°Oh, quiet, you oaf. I just wanted to see you off; you know you¡¯re welcome back whenever you¡¯re in town. Fay¡¯s going to miss you.¡± Her wink said more than Ward wanted to know. Apparently, Fay hadn¡¯t come up with a good excuse as to why she hadn¡¯t come back to her room the night before. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t be planning to skip out without settling your balance, would you?¡± ¡°No, no!¡± Ward waved his hand in the air. ¡°I left the glories in my room.¡± ¡°All right, then. Give us a hug.¡± She held out her arms, and Ward obliged, noting the strong scent of garlic and pepper in her hair as he pulled her close. ¡°Stay safe!¡± she called to Haley as she backed away from Ward. ¡°We will!¡± Haley smiled and waved, and Ward wondered at the steel in the girl to put on a cheerful face after riding all night, knowing her cousin was trying to capitalize on the recent death of her parents. The idea of it pissed Ward off, and for the second time, he wracked his brain for a way they could stay and confront the little asshole and his hired thugs. He had to admit defeat, though, largely due to his ignorance of the laws and customs of the city and greater jurisdiction. If Haley thought the cousin¡¯s claim was legitimate, he¡¯d have to take her word for it and help her put enough distance between them to give up the chase. He approached the big tan horse cautiously, moving close to his head. When the horse leaned down and snuffled at his neck, he reached up to scratch gently around his ears. ¡°That¡¯s a good boy, aren¡¯t you?¡± ¡°He¡¯s very gentle. Are you a good rider?¡± Haley asked, holding out the stallion¡¯s reins for him to take. ¡°I¡¯ll be honest, Haley; I haven¡¯t ridden a horse in a good thirty years.¡± Grace cleared her throat, and he turned to look at her. She was standing near the horse¡¯s hind leg. ¡°Come on, Ward. Put your right foot in this stirrup, grab the saddle horn, and pull yourself up. Be confident. Horses can sense your mood.¡± Haley spoke almost simultaneously, ¡°I adjusted the stirrups for you; they should be about right. Don¡¯t worry; we don¡¯t have to ride hard today. I¡¯m sure I put a few hours between me and my cousin¡¯s men. They¡¯ll have to sleep eventually, too.¡± ¡°Right.¡± Ward did as Grace suggested and was pleased with the ease of the maneuver. His body was strong and limber, and the horse, as Haley had promised, was very well-behaved. ¡°Nutmeg, right?¡± ¡°That¡¯s right! And this is Wind Queen. Isn¡¯t she beautiful?¡± Ward was getting situated in the saddle, getting the reins right in his hands, but he glanced over at Haley¡¯s horse and nodded. ¡°She¡¯s beautiful. Quite a name, too.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve had her for five years, and, well, the name seemed right back when I was a teen. Besides, she¡¯s very swift and¡ª¡± ¡°Hey,¡± Ward interrupted, ¡°you named her perfectly. Don¡¯t feel self-conscious¡ªthat¡¯s a beautiful, regal horse, there.¡± Haley smiled brightly at him and nodded. Then she clicked her tongue, and Wind Queen began high stepping, kind of prancing down the cobbles. Ward laughed and gave Nutmeg a gentle bump with his heels. ¡°Let¡¯s go, boy.¡± Whether he¡¯d said the right thing, or Nutmeg was just good at intuiting what his rider wanted, Ward didn¡¯t know, but he began to walk, quickly catching up to Haley¡¯s prancing show-off of a mount. ¡°You know where the artificer¡¯s shop is?¡± ¡°Frine? Yes!¡± Haley led the way, Ward following close behind through the streets, their mounts¡¯ hooves clattering on the cobbles, clearing pedestrian traffic for them. They were outside Mr. Frine¡¯s shop in minutes, and Ward nodded to Haley. ¡°I¡¯ll be right out.¡± ¡°Leave me your bag, and I¡¯ll secure it to your saddle.¡± ¡°Right, thanks.¡± Ward swung his pack off his shoulders and handed it over. Looking at Haley¡¯s horse, he saw she had good-sized saddle bags. A long sword with a dark leather scabbard was strapped to one of them. Obviously, he couldn¡¯t see the blade, but the hilt, made of dark, polished wood, was long enough for someone to grip it with two hands. What really caught his eye, though, was the engraved silver pommel. ¡°Ah, shit, that¡¯s a nice-looking sword.¡± Haley took Ward¡¯s pack and followed his gaze, looking back toward her mount. ¡°It¡¯s a fine blade, won from a challenge by my great grandfather. No way I¡¯m letting Sonder Yates get his clammy hands on it!¡± Ward snorted at her use of the word ¡°clammy¡± and nodded. ¡°Don¡¯t worry.¡± When he entered the shop, he found Mr. Frine hard at work on his ammunition but was disappointed to learn he¡¯d only finished loading nine bullets. Ward explained his urgent need to depart, and Frine shrugged, offering to finish the other eleven bullets for him to pick up the next time he came to town. Ward contemplated the offer, then shook his head. ¡°Nah, just give me the empty casings. I¡¯ll get ¡®em filled when I get a chance.¡± ¡°Very well. I have a small cask of the alchemical fire I¡¯m using that I¡¯ll send with you, as promised.¡± Frine looked him up and down, an expectant expression on his face. It took Ward far longer than it should have to realize the man was waiting for payment. ¡°Oh, shit! Your glories.¡± Frine nodded, adjusting his spectacles. ¡°Indeed. And did you still want to make the agreed-upon trade of hemographs?¡± ¡°Oof! Yeah, that¡¯s right. Gimme a minute.¡± Ward hurried outside, rummaged in his pack for the scav hemograph, then returned with a chagrined smile. ¡°Sorry, Mr. Frine. It¡¯s been a hectic morning.¡± ¡°Not a problem, Ward. Let¡¯s see here.¡± Frine took the hemograph, examined all its angles, then nodded and reached under the counter for the one Ward wanted to purchase. ¡°Just the small matter of twenty-seven hundred glories¡­¡± ¡°Right!¡± Ward fished his pouch containing his hundred-glory coins out of his coat¡¯s inner pocket, then counted twenty-seven of them out onto the counter. Frine smiled and scooped them up, handing over the hemograph with its shiny copper hinges and finely tooled wood. ¡°Use it well, sir.¡± ¡°Thanks, Mr. Frine.¡± Ward loaded up his pistol with five of the new bullets, leaving his last Earth-made bullet in the ready position. He tucked the hemograph into his pack, strapped the little cask of explosive crystals to Nutmeg¡¯s saddle beside his pack and spear, and then mounted up. Fifteen minutes later, they were trotting¡ªpainfully for Ward¡ªup the road outside the northern city gates. ¡°I¡¯m going to be black and blue by the end of the day,¡± he groaned. ¡°Move with the horse!¡± Haley laughed. ¡°C¡¯mon, Ward,¡± Grace said, suddenly in the saddle behind him. He felt her arms wrap around his waist. ¡°Just try to move with me. I¡¯ll help you get the rhythm down.¡± Ward wanted to protest, but he could already feel a difference. She held him tight, flexing her legs and pressing with feet that were also in the stirrups. He could feel her movement and almost instinctively began to go with it. He appreciated the help, but with the very close, hands-on training, he felt warmth from her touch and caught himself enjoying it. Before he knew it, they were moving at a smooth, steady canter, and Haley laughed, looking over at him. ¡°I thought you said you weren¡¯t a good rider!¡± she called. Ward shrugged and laughed. ¡°Grace is helping!¡± Haley¡¯s eyes went wide, and Grace squeezed him tighter. ¡°See? If you¡¯ll just relax and let me, I can be a lot of help.¡± Ward couldn¡¯t argue with that, but something in the back of his mind was alarmed by her proximity. While part of him enjoyed the closeness, another part recoiled from the warmth of her presence and how his body responded. Most troubling was his awareness of this dichotomy and the struggle he felt inside as he fought to remind himself of all the reasons he had to be angry with her. 47. The Crossing 47 ¨C The Crossing They rode until noon before resting, and despite Grace¡¯s help, Ward¡¯s tailbone, glutes, and thighs were killing him. ¡°Not sure how much further I can go today, at least on horseback. I can walk, though. Hell, I can jog.¡± Haley looked at him from where she stood near the bank of a small river the road passed over. They¡¯d taken a short side trail down to the embankment so the horses could drink, embracing the chance to stretch their legs. ¡°Really? I suppose you¡¯re probably pretty sore if you haven¡¯t ridden a horse in a long while.¡± ¡°Yeah. My ass is killing me.¡± ¡°Big baby,¡± Grace teased, sitting atop Nutmeg¡¯s saddle, looking far too comfortable. ¡°I mean, if you think they¡¯re really about to catch us, I could suffer through it.¡± Ward scowled, annoyed that Grace¡¯s quip had gotten to him so easily. ¡°We should be far ahead of them. They¡¯ll have to ask around in town when they arrive. Their mounts will be tired. They¡¯ll be tired¡­¡± She trailed off, listing the reasons on her fingers, and, as she closed her fist and rummaged in her pack for something, added, ¡°They¡¯ll probably rest for the night soon. There''s no way they¡¯ll catch us before then. They can¡¯t exactly track us on the North Road¡ªfar too much traffic.¡± She produced a foil-wrapped, loaf-shaped package and walked over to Ward. ¡°Got some travel food.¡± ¡°Smart. I didn¡¯t get a chance to shop for provisions, but Fay mentioned there were lots of stops along the way up north.¡± ¡°That¡¯s true. We¡¯re near Children¡¯s Crossing. There¡¯s an inn and stables there¡ªprobably a few roadside stands, too.¡± ¡°Children¡¯s Crossing?¡± ¡°It¡¯s a ford in the Gravelwash River. It¡¯s the shallowest section. I suppose that¡¯s where the name came from; even a child could ford the river there.¡± ¡°Is it too much to hope we might stop there?¡± Ward desperately wanted to soak his muscles in a hot bath. ¡°No, I don¡¯t think we should. We¡¯ll stop for three or four hours. That should give a healing salve time to work on your bruising.¡± Ward couldn¡¯t miss the sly smile as she looked back toward her horse, gently stroking her long mane. ¡°That a funny image for you? Me rubbing healing salve all over my bruised ass?¡± Ward laughed, also finding the thought funny. ¡°I don¡¯t want to use up¡ª¡± ¡°I brought several jars. Remember I went to buy some healing tonic for that thug before¡­before¡­¡± ¡°Forget it.¡± Ward didn¡¯t think she needed to dwell on that memory. ¡°All right. Should I put some of that stuff on now or wait ¡®til we get to the crossing?¡± ¡°Wait. We¡¯ll make sure you¡¯re good and bruised up so you heal back tougher.¡± She put a foot in her stirrup and swung back into the saddle. ¡°Ready?¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± Ward wanted to say no, pain lancing through his hamstrings as he lifted his leg into the stirrup and pulled himself back into the saddle. Still, he grimaced through it and forced himself to use his legs, pressing with his feet to move with Nutmeg¡¯s gait as he climbed back up the slope to the road and then over the little bridge. The foliage was thick along the road there, likely due to the nearby stream, and everything seemed familiar and different at the same time to Ward. The trees were green with leaves of all sorts, and some looked like they might be analogs of those on Earth. Ward wasn¡¯t a tree expert, but he could recognize a maple leaf and saw a few of those. He also saw a tree with leaves shaped like green puffballs, and he knew there wasn¡¯t anything like it in the Pacific Northwest. The air was chilly but fresh, and when they rode in the sun, Ward was plenty warm in his wool coat and hat. They¡¯d passed a few travelers, usually slower-moving with wagons, and everyone had been pleasant or, at worst, standoffish. The wooden bridge was well-weathered, but the planks were thick, old hardwood, and it felt solid as Nutmeg¡¯s hooves clomped hollowly over it. On the other side, Haley handed Ward a slice of her travel bread, then picked up the pace again, moving past a trot into a canter for a while, and Ward groaned as the pounding on his lower half ensued. Grace appeared, effortlessly jogging alongside Nutmeg¡ªhe¡¯d banned her from occupying the saddle at the same time as him, unable to reconcile the strange mixture of revulsion and lust her close proximity had evoked. ¡°I know you¡¯re hurting, but your form¡¯s looking a lot better.¡± ¡°Thanks,¡± he grunted. He¡¯d stopped trying to hide his conversations with Grace when Haley was around. The girl was very accepting of them, almost to the point where Ward thought she might be amused by his one-sided conversations. ¡°Pretty smart of her to think of using healing salve to speed up your recovery. It should help you find your riding stamina much more quickly.¡± ¡°Does it work like that, though? Like, if I lifted weights and got sore, then used some salve to heal quickly, would I get the same gains as someone who healed naturally?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know why not.¡± Grace shrugged. ¡°We didn¡¯t have mana-rich potions and concoctions back on Earth. It¡¯s funny to look back at all the times my hosts dabbled with alchemy and herbalism¡ªsome things worked, but others did nothing, and I wonder if it was due to the lack of mana. I wonder if some of those recipes came from worlds like this.¡± Suddenly, she was gone, then she spoke from behind him. ¡°Can I please ride back here? I¡¯ll sit back a few inches, see? You can¡¯t even feel me, right?¡± ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s fine.¡± While Grace spoke, Haley slowed a little, so she rode beside him on the left. Over the sound of their hooves pounding, she said, voice pitched to carry, ¡°Talking to Grace?¡± ¡°Yep.¡± When she continued to stare, he sighed and said, ¡°She thinks you¡¯re smart, suggesting the healing salve.¡± Haley grinned. ¡°I like Grace.¡± ¡°I like her too.¡± When Ward didn¡¯t say anything, Grace prodded him in the ribs. ¡°She likes you too, Haley.¡± He groaned. In an effort to change the subject and head off having to relay message after message from Grace, he glanced down at Haley¡¯s saddle where her father¡¯s sword hung. ¡°You know how to use a sword?¡± ¡°Not really. I¡¯m going to learn, though.¡± ¡°What about your, uh, Gopah?¡± ¡°There¡¯s a related art, Gopahdo, which focuses on the sword.¡± Ward¡¯s eyebrows shot up. ¡°Oh yeah?¡± ¡°Yep. The art of the fire blade.¡± ¡°Is that something you can learn without going to a class or something?¡± ¡°I¡¯ll need to find a master in the next city and request some training. I know there are ways to apply the Gopah styles to the blade, so I think I¡¯ll be a quick study. Still, I know I can¡¯t become skilled overnight. I hope to learn some basics and practice them as we travel. When we return to the city or visit a new one, I¡¯ll seek further instruction, and so on.¡± ¡°Sounds good.¡± Ward nodded. ¡°Ask her if you can learn, too! You need to work on your fighting skills.¡± ¡°Hey! I feel like I¡¯ve done pretty damn well so far¡ª¡± Haley laughed. ¡°Grace wants you to practice with me!¡± Ward sighed. ¡°Yeah.¡± ¡°I would love to have a sparring partner! It will be good for you! You can¡¯t rely on magic yet, Ward. You don¡¯t know enough spells, nor do you have enough mana.¡± ¡°Hey! How do you know how much mana I have?¡± ¡°Well, you described how you felt after casting the secret-finding spell.¡± ¡°Oh shit! That reminds me. I learned a new spell.¡± Ward switched his reins to his left hand and pulled his knife from its sheath. The blade faintly vibrated in his hand, and there was a shimmer in the air around it as he held it up, displaying it to Haley. ¡°It¡¯s enchanted to do a lot of damage on the next thing it hits. See the runes? Those are the words of power.¡± ¡°That¡¯s¡­incredible! Can you cast it on my father¡¯s sword?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know why not.¡± Ward grinned, thankful for the conversation¡ªhe¡¯d almost forgotten about his aching tailbone for a few moments. ¡°When we stop, I¡¯ll give it a try. Sound good?¡± ¡°Sounds very good.¡± She smiled, turned back to the road, and rode quietly for a few minutes. As they rounded a bend and came into view of a vast stretch of golden grain and the dozens of farmers working to harvest it, she looked back at him. ¡°I appreciate you sticking with me. You would have been within reason to tell me I had too many problems to bother with. I mean, it¡¯s one thing to help me hunt the murderer of my parents; it¡¯s another to fly out of town at a moment¡¯s notice.¡± Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site. ¡°Well, I was ready to leave and didn¡¯t want to lose my partner so soon. We¡¯ve barely gotten started on our adventuring career.¡± That brought an even brighter smile to her face. ¡°Adventuring partners.¡± She nodded. ¡°I love the sound of that, Ward.¡± She pointed ahead, past the distant edge of the grain field. ¡°See that low, dark line on the horizon?¡± ¡°Yep.¡± ¡°That¡¯s the greenbelt around the Gravelwash. Children¡¯s Crossing is there. You¡¯re almost done for the day, partner!¡± Ward laughed. ¡°Thank God.¡± She smiled, reaching forward to loop some of Wind Queen¡¯s mane around her fingers. ¡°We¡¯ll buy the horses some restorative oats, have the stable hands walk them around for a while, and you can rest for a few hours.¡± She looked at him sideways, one eyebrow cocked. ¡°Sound good?¡± ¡°Sounds like you thought things through plenty.¡± ¡°I did!¡± She smiled. ¡°I think if we get enough of a lead from here, Sonder¡¯s men will give up. There are just too many destinations to the north! Surely, he can¡¯t afford to pay them to pursue us much further.¡± ¡°Doesn¡¯t seem like it, but then I don¡¯t know exactly what that sword is worth. Or, you know, the other stuff you took.¡± ¡°Just my mother¡¯s jewels.¡± She frowned and shrugged, then added, ¡°I guess there¡¯s also the mine shares and all the glories I took from their safe in town here.¡± ¡°What?¡± Suddenly, Ward was dialed in, and everything else was background noise. ¡°Well, they owned quite a few shares of Tarnish Central Mine, and they had about ten thousand glories in the safe with the certificates.¡± She slapped one of her big saddlebags. ¡°When Sonder¡¯s men chased me off the property, I rode straight to town, but I stopped by our townhouse before I came to get you.¡± Ward must have been frowning because she hurriedly asked, ¡°Are you angry? Is it too much risk?¡± ¡°Nah, forget it. I¡¯d do the same damn thing. No way I¡¯d let some cousin get his mitts on my parent¡¯s things.¡± He thought about it for a moment, then added, ¡°Well, if they owed him money¡ª¡± ¡°He¡¯s exaggerating the debt! I know he is! I couldn¡¯t find my parents'' copies of the documents, but that doesn¡¯t mean anything. What if he¡¯s making the whole thing up?¡± ¡°You think he could do that?¡± Haley nodded emphatically. ¡°With the county reeve in his pocket? Yes!¡± ¡°Is that what Tarnish is? A county?¡± ¡°No, Copper Valley is the county. Tarnish is just a city.¡± ¡°Are we still in Copper Valley?¡± ¡°No, we¡¯re in Granite. It¡¯s a large county that stretches for a week¡¯s travel to the north and east.¡± ¡°That¡¯s right. We¡¯re riding toward Port Granite right now, aren¡¯t we?¡± ¡°Yes! A few days north of us.¡± ¡°Okay, so this Reeve is a county official? But he probably answers to the Marshal who¡¯s supposedly on his way to investigate your parents¡¯ murder, right?¡± Haley nodded. ¡°He doesn¡¯t exactly ¡®answer to¡¯ the Marshal because he¡¯s appointed by the county commissioner. He definitely would respect a Marshal¡¯s authority, though.¡± ¡°Damn it!¡± Ward growled, barely hearing her as his mind started making connections he didn¡¯t like. ¡°What? Are you worried about the Marshal¡ª¡± ¡°No, that¡¯s not it. I¡¯m just thinking about this whole mess with your cousin and the ¡®debt¡¯ he¡¯s claiming against your parents. It¡¯s all too damn convenient for him. If I hadn¡¯t already been so sure Nevkin hired the killer¡­¡± he trailed off, annoyed at the thing in his gut that told him to turn around and figure out what Sonder Yates had to do with Haley¡¯s parents¡¯ murders. Haley waved to a woman lashing bundles of long grain stalks; they¡¯d slowed the horses to a walk as the distant green band of foliage grew larger. ¡°You think Sonder would¡­But we¡¯re sure it was Nevkin, right?¡± ¡°I¡¯m sure Foyle arranged for the two thugs who attacked me in the alley¡­ Shit. Goddamn it. What if the guy who came to your house had nothing to do with Nevkin?¡± ¡°Seems like a big coincidence,¡± Grace said from behind Ward, breaking her long silence. ¡°It would be a coincidence, but not as big as it seems,¡± Ward answered Grace, sounding out his thoughts. ¡°We were in the catacombs for a long time. Sonder might have decided that it was time to make his move on your parents because you and your brother were missing and presumed dead. Meanwhile, Nevkin knew we might come out, but not when. He might have hired the two thugs who jumped me while Sonder hired the other guy, the one I killed by your house. The only coincidence was that the one guy attacked your house a day before I got jumped.¡± ¡°Ward!¡± Haley grabbed his arm, her mind finally having wrapped itself around the entire idea. ¡°Sonder killed my parents! That scum! That filth! I¡¯ll rip his spleen from¡ª¡± ¡°Hold on, hold on, Haley. We don¡¯t know that yet, but we¡¯ve definitely got some thinking to do. I¡¯m suddenly not so sure we want to outrun these men. How close is your cousin to his henchmen? If we captured one or two and¡ª¡± ¡°They might know something!¡± She nodded enthusiastically. ¡°Ward, this is a bad idea.¡± Grace rested a warm hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently, sending a tingle down his spine at the pleasant pressure. ¡°We need to keep moving, not get caught up in this girl¡¯s family feud and legal drama.¡± ¡°You want me to leave her?¡± Ward didn¡¯t bother trying to hide the question; it was time Haley realized Grace wasn¡¯t always on her side. ¡°She wants you to leave me?¡± Grace growled, ¡°No! But can¡¯t you talk her out of it?¡± Her gentle pressure on his trapezius tightened, almost painfully so. Ward looked at Haley and sighed, suddenly regretting his spur-of-the-moment decision to expose Grace¡¯s more heartless side. ¡°She doesn¡¯t want me to leave you. She wants me to talk you out of going back to mess with your cousin.¡± Grace¡¯s squeeze relaxed as she let go, shoving him almost petulantly. When he turned to frown at her, she was gone. Haley had gotten quiet, but she nodded. ¡°Maybe she¡¯s right. Maybe I should be satisfied that you killed the man who wielded the blade.¡± Her voice was small, and Ward knew it took a lot for her to say that. Was she afraid he¡¯d leave her? Was she giving up just because he¡¯d run his dumb mouth? ¡°Nah, screw that. If that punk had your parents killed, we¡¯re going to get justice one way or another.¡± Haley looked up at him, and Ward could tell she was fighting to keep her face neutral. ¡°We don¡¯t have to, Ward¡ª¡± ¡°Hey, relax; I¡¯m sorry I said that. Grace didn¡¯t say to leave you, just that we should keep moving. You know, it¡¯s different when she¡¯s talking to me ¡®cause she knows I know her. You lose the real meaning when I say things to her out of context. She wouldn¡¯t tell me to leave you, all right? She wanted me to keep you focused on the journey, the adventure, you know? She¡¯s upset about what happened to your folks, too, but she thinks facing those problems is hard on you.¡± Ward was talking out of his ass, but he felt like Haley had been kind of crushed to think Grace might try to get him to ditch her, and he felt like a jerk for suggesting it. ¡°Really? She¡¯s¡­She¡¯s just worried about me?¡± Ward smiled. ¡°Yeah, exactly.¡± Suddenly, Grace was back, leaning close to his back, speaking into his ear, ¡°I could hug you!¡± ¡°Well, um, Grace,¡± Haley said, looking around, unsure where to direct her words. ¡°She¡¯s behind me.¡± ¡°Grace, thanks for worrying about me.¡± ¡°Just don¡¯t get yourself so tied up in the past that you lose sight of your future. Many have lost their freedom or their lives pursuing vengeance.¡± Ward didn¡¯t immediately repeat her words, so Grace nudged him. ¡°Tell her!¡± ¡°Right,¡± Ward cleared his throat, ¡°She says to be careful with vengeance; it¡¯s best served cold or something¡­Ouch!¡± Ward slapped a hand to his ear, far too late to stop Grace from cuffing it painfully. ¡°Okay, okay!¡± He knew Grace could basically teleport all around him, and he¡¯d never know where the next blow would come from, so he acquiesced. ¡°She said to remember your dreams and not lose track of them pursuing a nightmare.¡± He knew he was paraphrasing or, perhaps, rephrasing her words, but he tried his best under the pressure of Grace¡¯s repeated threats. ¡°She says many people lost their freedom for vengeance, um, don¡¯t let that be you.¡± ¡°I won¡¯t, Grace!¡± Haley laughed, and when Ward finally felt sure Grace wouldn¡¯t hit him again, he lowered his hands from his ears. ¡°We need to figure a way for you two to talk directly,¡± he grumbled. ¡°I¡¯d love that!¡± Haley¡¯s eyes grew wide with excitement, but then she turned away from Ward and pointed, ¡°The Gravelwash!¡± Ward looked forward and saw that they¡¯d crested a very gentle rise and that the road ahead descended toward a tremendously wide, placid river. Trees were thick on the sides of the road, but they grew denser toward the river. The road was broad and branched like a multi-pronged Y to the left and right, each narrower track leading to various wooden buildings. Ward saw a mill with a wide paddled wheel hanging in the river; he saw a building with large corrals, a building that had to be the inn with its many gables and large wraparound deck, and he saw half a dozen other, smaller structures that might be shops or homes or both. The main branch of the road veered to the right and passed the stable and inn on its way to the shore of the sluggish blue-green river. Ward could see rafts out on the water, many occupied by fisherfolk. Still other, larger rafts, laden with beasts and cargo, plied the shallow waters, hauling people back and forth to the far shore. Some were steam-powered, with great brass steam stacks on one end, and others were simply pushed along by men and women with long poles. Despite all the rafts and small boats, Ward saw plenty of travelers riding or swimming through the water. One such man rode a horse near the middle, and the water barely came to his stirrups. ¡°I don¡¯t think children should cross that river!¡± Grace announced. ¡°It¡¯s got to be a few miles across, and it¡¯s deeper than I imagined!¡± Ward laughed and looked at Haley. ¡°Grace thinks this is a poorly named crossing. She wouldn¡¯t let any children in her care swim that river.¡± ¡°She¡¯s very protective. That¡¯s why. She¡¯d be an excellent mother.¡± Ward sighed, rubbing his temples, fighting the urge to describe Grace as a lying, scheming, cold-hearted demon. ¡°Let¡¯s just get down there. I need to get out of this saddle. In fact,¡± Ward grunted, standing on one stirrup to swing his leg over the horse and down to the ground, ¡°I¡¯ll just walk ol¡¯ Nutmeg from here.¡± ¡°Not a bad idea. These poor animals have been working hard since midnight.¡± Haley followed him out of the saddle, pulling her lead to join him on the right side of the road as a cart laden with bundles of something that looked like colorful carrots trundled past. ¡°Place looks busy.¡± Ward eyed the many animals in the stable corral. ¡°Probably a good spot to ask around for rumors or sightings of Nevkin. Wish we had a picture¡­¡± ¡°He¡¯s not hard to describe!¡± Haley laughed. Ward grinned, nodding, picturing their quarry''s bald, tattooed head. ¡°Even without the silver tongue and the maniac¡¯s voice.¡± ¡°Maniac¡­¡± Haley¡¯s laughter had trailed off to a giggle, which persisted as she repeated the word. ¡°A perfect word to describe how he sounded!¡± ¡°Yep.¡± Ward stretched his legs into a brisker pace, stiffly at first but more smoothly as his aching joints limbered up a little. He wasn¡¯t looking forward to confronting the posse Sonder Yates had chasing Haley, but he was glad for the excuse not to ride so hard going forward. ¡°We need to pick up some healing tonics. The stronger, the better. Something tells me I¡¯ll be casting my reveal secrets spell.¡± 48. Bath Talk 48 ¨C Bath Talk Children¡¯s Crossing was a busy place. Haley and Ward had to wait in line to deliver their mounts to the stable, and once they got the chance to speak to the stable manager, Haley paid the hands a few extra glories to give Nutmeg and Wind Queen some extra attention. The hands agreed to cool down the horses, brush them off, and feed them some ¡°restorative¡± oats¡ªfood she¡¯d described to Ward as being alchemically enriched. Meanwhile, Ward looked around in wonder at all the different sorts of animals in the pen, amused and impressed by how they seemed to get along, from ostrich-like birds with broad backs and thick legs to something that looked like an ox with a leathery, inch-thick brown shell over its back. Still, most of the beasts looked like perfectly normal horses, mules, and oxen. After dropping off their mounts, Ward and Haley walked into the imposing, asymmetrical structure of the travel lodge. Amid the noise of string instruments, raucous laughter, and clinking dishes, they spoke to the innkeeper and rented a room¡ªone of only two available. To Ward¡¯s disappointment, there was no bath in the room, but the innkeeper assured him that the public baths were spacious, clean, and very hot. Grunting with the pain in his glutes, ignoring Grace¡¯s teasing, Ward followed Haley outside, up a flight of wooden steps on the side of the ramshackle inn, past a few occupied rooms, and then into their own. It wasn¡¯t anything like the room he¡¯d had at The Hen¡¯s Nest. ¡°What a dump,¡± he grumbled. ¡°We¡¯re not staying long, but yes, I agree.¡± Haley threw her pack at the foot of the second of two narrow cots, each devoid of sheets and boasting a thin straw-filled mattress. Ward looked around the room, ensuring no rats or gigantic roaches lurked in the corners or under the rickety table. It was dusty, but his inspection revealed nothing gross or disturbing. He¡¯d just turned back to his little bed when Haley tossed him a jar of salve. ¡°Rub that on your¡­sore areas after your bath.¡± ¡°What about you?¡± ¡°I was up all night. I¡¯ll sleep for a few hours. I tipped one of the serving girls to knock on our door at sundown. That should give us four or five hours, and then we can put some more distance between us and Sonder¡¯s men.¡± Ward frowned, contemplating a response. Hadn¡¯t they decided to maybe not run from those men? Was she just trying to be agreeable, still worried about Ward maybe ditching her? ¡°Go ahead and sleep. We can talk about our plan when we¡¯re both a little more rested. Maybe we don¡¯t want to outrun those men, right?¡± ¡°Right.¡± She sat down with a heavy sigh. ¡°It¡¯s up to you, in any case. I¡¯m not going to insist on going after Sonder.¡± ¡°Yeah, we¡¯ve been over that. Don¡¯t worry, I know you aren¡¯t insisting.¡± Ward dug around in his pack for some clean clothes and his toiletry bag, then gestured to the door. ¡°Be back in half an hour or so.¡± She nodded and laid back on the bed, using a rolled-up coat as a pillow. Ward slipped out and followed the painted signs toward the bathhouse. It was on the ground floor and about twenty yards removed from the main structure¡ªa big, round building built of clay bricks. Steam perpetually rose from the central chimney stack, and as he approached, a man and woman, both scantily clad, came tip-toeing out, hurrying over the cobbled pathway to the inn. Ward nodded to them as they passed, then slipped into the building. A young man wearing denim shorts, a straw hat, and nothing else sat on a stool next to rows of cubbies in the wall. He nodded to Ward and said, ¡°I¡¯ll keep your stuff safe here, mister.¡± Ward eyed him up and down, then nodded. ¡°Ten glories in it for you if you keep a close eye on ¡®em.¡± ¡°Sure, mister. There¡¯s a sink over there and towels on that rack. You can bring your own soap into the baths, but we have some in there, too.¡± He pointed around the spacious entry room, and Ward followed his pointing finger, seeing slatted benches, several copper sinks, mirrors, and an enormously rotund, pink-fleshed man vigorously scrubbing his back and butt with a towel. Ward tried to keep his expression neutral as he undressed at one of the benches. He¡¯d been in plenty of gym locker rooms and barracks¡ªhe wasn¡¯t shy about stripping down, especially being as fit as he was; in his mind, there was nothing to be ashamed of. Ward tucked his belongings into a cubby, nodded to the kid, flicked him a five-glory coin, and then, towel and soap in hand, walked through the beaded curtain under the sign that read, ¡°GENTS.¡± His confidence didn¡¯t exactly wither, but things got a little stranger when he saw how many people were in the big, steamy room and when a dozen sets of eyes turned toward him. The space was round, every surface lined with cedar planks, and four large copper tubs, more like jacuzzis to his mind than bathtubs, sat flush with the flooring. For a second, Ward worried he¡¯d misunderstood things and that he should have a swimsuit or something on, but a glimpse of things he¡¯d rather not inspect beneath the water¡¯s surface reassured him. He tossed his towel on a cedar bench and stepped into the least crowded of the four tubs. It wasn¡¯t especially deep, only coming up to his waist. His legs bumped up against a seat built into the side, and he sat, nodding and smiling to the other occupants, a hirsute man with glittering purple irises and two men who each looked capable of wrestling a steer into submission. ¡°Afternoon,¡± he sighed with deep pleasure as the hot water penetrated his stiff, sore joints and muscles. ¡°Oy, there, sorcerer! Where you headed?¡± the hairy man asked, using his fingertips to sprinkle hot water over his head. ¡°North.¡± Ward found it easy to be vague when he really didn¡¯t know. ¡°Gonna stay long?¡± one of the other men asked. He was thick in every sense of the word, with big, rolling shoulders and bulging, rosy cheeks. He chuckled at something his companion whispered. ¡°Nah, moving on soon. You folks from around here?¡± ¡°Me and Garth are,¡± the burly fellow replied, for some reason eliciting another giggle from his friend. ¡°Oh, brother,¡± Grace said, making her first appearance in a while. She sat at the side of the tub, her pants rolled up, her dainty little feet soaking in the steaming water. ¡°Garth, is it? And your name?¡± For some reason, Grace¡¯s discomfort made Ward want to talk to the strange, giggling men all the more. He giggled again and shoved at his friend, ¡°Stop that! He keeps tickling my ribs! I¡¯m Andy.¡± ¡°Andy and Garth, huh? Brothers?¡± ¡°Just friends.¡± ¡°Ah.¡± Ward nodded, busying himself with scrubbing down with some cedar-scented soap he¡¯d purchased in Tarnish. ¡°What brings you to the inn, mister?¡± At first, Ward thought Garth¡¯s question was directed at him, but the hirsute man with the violet eyes replied. ¡°I¡¯m heading east. Meant to be investigating some crimes there. Been a spate of bad stuff happening in these parts.¡± ¡°East?¡± Ward asked, suddenly interested. Was this man a marshal? If so, shouldn¡¯t he be heading south? ¡°Aye, over in the valley.¡± ¡°Applegrass?¡± one of the men asked¡ªWard couldn¡¯t see which, as, at that moment, he was rinsing soap off his face. The hairy, purple-eyed man grunted in assent. ¡°Yep, that¡¯s the one. You heard anything about that warlock? Supposedly, he¡¯s killed off half the landholders. Rumors are he¡¯s trying to claim it all for himself. ¡®Course it ain¡¯t my job to fight the noble¡¯s battles for ¡®em, but I gotta go investigate, make sure the duels were fought according to the law.¡± ¡°You¡¯re a marshal?¡± Ward asked. ¡°That¡¯s right. Marshal Aldiss at your service.¡± This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. The two men had been carrying on a hushed discussion, and after the marshal answered Ward¡¯s question, Andy cleared his throat. ¡°We¡¯ve heard rumors ¡®bout that trouble over in Applegrass. In fact, we met that warlock. He passed this way!¡± Ward¡¯s interest was obviously piqued, but Grace decided to make sure he wasn¡¯t terminally stupid, ¡°You realize they¡¯re probably talking about Nevkin, right?¡± ¡°What did he look like?¡± Ward asked, ignoring her. ¡°Strange man. He had wild eyes and said the most bizarre things. Me and Garth were at the inn for dinner when he stayed. He ranted and raved a good bit! It was scary. He had a, well, this sounds mad, but he had a silver tongue.¡± Ward decided to play dumb. ¡°What do you mean? He said flattering things to the ladies?¡± ¡°No! His tongue was made of metal! You wouldn¡¯t notice casually ¡®cause it moved around like a normal tongue, but when he got to raving, opening his mouth to yell and rant, you could see it glinting in the light.¡± Garth nodded, eyes wide. ¡°He said things that hurt my ears and made my head feel funny!¡± ¡°That¡¯s helpful, gentlemen.¡± The marshal nodded, scratching his mustache. ¡°I¡¯ll ask ¡®round the inn for more detail.¡± Andy nodded. ¡°Oh, I can tell you another thing! His head was bald, and he had blue tattoos all over it!¡± Ward looked at Grace, silently making eye contact. She smiled. ¡°You should tell Haley.¡± Ward cleared his throat and interjected, ¡°How far is this valley from here, Marshal?¡± ¡°Applegrass? ¡®Bout two days east. Going to be a long few weeks of travel for me¡ªgotta head down to Tarnish after I see about this warlock fellow.¡± ¡°Oh yeah?¡± Ward had immediately decided he wouldn¡¯t mention his involvement in those crimes, so he tried to steer the conversation toward a topic he was very interested in. ¡°So, I¡¯m not from these parts, but maybe you can explain something to me. Are you saying this warlock fellow might not be in trouble for killing off nobles? Is it okay to kill people around here?¡± The marshal shrugged and produced a small brush¡ªhad he been sitting on it?¡ªand stroked it through his thick hair. ¡°It¡¯s not okay to just murder people, but if you have a grievance and issue a challenge by way of dueling, there are legal grounds.¡± ¡°Not for just any old folk!¡± Garth chimed in. ¡°Oh, yes, true, true.¡± The marshal nodded, chuckling as he scooped more hot water and drizzled it over his head. ¡°Aye, the Noble Dueling Doctrine only applies to those on the Vainglory Road or, as is implied by the name, in a position of sovereignty.¡± Ward mulled that over for a minute, noting Grace¡¯s pensive expression. Before she could say what was bothering her, he asked, ¡°What¡¯s the ¡®Vainglory Road¡¯?¡± ¡°Oh, aye, you¡¯re new, but you¡¯re clever. That¡¯s where I come in most of the time. If there¡¯s a grievance about a duel, oftentimes it stems from the family of one party claiming their loved one wasn¡¯t on the Road¡±¡ªsomething about the way he said the word made Ward sure it was a proper noun¡ª"which means I have to do some investigating to see if a person was called to duel unjustly. Sometimes, it''s as easy as interviewing folks and finding out the fellow went about boasting about the challenges, how he¡¯d completed one and intended to find another. Challenges are on the Road, so that makes my job easier.¡± ¡°And a person like this warlock can just go up to a noble house, say he wants their lands, and duel the lord or lady? Even if they¡¯re old or infirm or never held a weapon?¡± ¡°It sounds harsh, but a key part of the noble obligation in the Vainglory System is to defend the people you rule over. If you can¡¯t do that, you don¡¯t deserve the titles. If a noble can¡¯t fight, they better be able to afford a champion. If they can¡¯t do either, they still have the option to walk away with their lives and ten percent of their treasury.¡± ¡°Huh.¡± Ward nodded. ¡°Harsh, but I guess I¡¯ve seen systems I liked less.¡± His mind went to the centuries of horrible rulers many countries on Earth had endured simply because they¡¯d been born into a particular family. Another thought struck him, and he asked, ¡°I take it you enforce this rule? For the, uh, Vainglory Assembly?¡± ¡°That¡¯s right, traveler! Let me ask you something now: Where are you from?¡± The marshal smoothed his bushy black beard down, his smile pushing his cheeks up, making his bright eyes sink further under his dark brows. ¡°I¡¯m from a distant world. Earth. Have you heard of it?¡± ¡°Can¡¯t say I have! Gents?¡± ¡°No!¡± Andy shook his head, and Garth just giggled. Grace leaned close, and though no one else could hear her, she whispered, ¡°There¡¯s something very off about those two¡­¡± ¡°Welp!¡± Ward sighed and stood, giving his arms and shoulders one more rinse. ¡°I¡¯ve got to get some sleep, but I wonder, Marshal, are you planning to head out soon? I mean to Applegrass?¡± ¡°First thing in the morning, stranger.¡± Ward grinned and held out his hand. ¡°It¡¯s Ward.¡± The marshal¡¯s hand was surprisingly stout, and his grip was like a vise. As he released his hand, Ward asked, ¡°I don¡¯t suppose you could use a little company? My partner and I are heading that way.¡± ¡°Well, I travel by horse, so¡­¡± ¡°Perfect! We do as well.¡± ¡°In that case, stranger, er, Ward, I wouldn¡¯t mind a bit of company. These parts aren¡¯t usually too rough, but I¡¯ve been known to escort the locals on my travels. Don¡¯t make me hunt you out of your rooms, though¡ªI¡¯ll leave just after sunrise.¡± ¡°Well, I¡¯m an early riser, so you¡¯ll find my partner and me in the common room. We¡¯ll be ready.¡± Ward nodded to the two strange men, ¡°Gentlemen.¡± They giggled and waved, and then Ward had to face the embarrassment of being the first to leave a communal tub. He tried to be nonchalant, but there¡¯s nothing cool about a naked man climbing out of a tub. He managed to keep from slipping or something equally embarrassing, and thankfully, the heat from the hot water hid the rush of hot blood that ran to his head as he tried to dry off calmly near the exit. ¡°That seemed awkward. I mean, you leaving while they all stared at your butt.¡± ¡°Jesus, Grace.¡± Ward sighed, shaking his head. ¡°Oh well, yeah, it was awkward. Maybe I¡¯d get used to it eventually, but I¡¯m not sure I¡¯m a fan of this communal bath business.¡± By the time he¡¯d gathered his belongings and returned to the room he shared with Haley, he was ready to collapse into the cot and get a few hours of sleep. She was still curled up atop her little straw mattress, her back to him as she breathed slowly and deeply, and he tried to be as quiet as possible as he closed the door and then took five minutes to smear some of the healing salve on his butt, hamstrings, and lower back. That done, he stretched out on the little cot and inwardly groaned. The mattress was terrible¡ªthin, pokey, and lumpy¡ªand his mind kept imagining the types of people who¡¯d slept on it. While he lay there, back to Haley, facing the door, Grace quietly sat on the floor beside his cot, her face just a few inches from his. ¡°Are you going to explain why you want to travel with that marshal?¡± Ward nodded and whispered so softly that only Grace could possibly hear him. ¡°I¡¯m going to challenge Nevkin to a duel. Figure the marshal ought to be my witness. Oh, and I¡¯m going to turn him against that cousin of Haley¡¯s. I¡¯m hoping his men catch up to us while we¡¯re on the road. I¡¯ll get the marshal to help me question them. I know Haley¡¯s telling the truth, and I know my gut¡¯s right about this¡ªthat asshole killed her parents, and I¡¯m going to see that the marshal makes him pay for it.¡± ¡°Two birds with one marshal-shaped stone?¡± ¡°Well, yeah, and some magic and a bit of killing on my part.¡± Ward winked at her, somehow not the least bit bothered about the idea. Grace smiled back at him, and, with her sitting there, looking at him almost pleasantly, his eyes finally got heavy enough to ignore the uncomfortable mattress, and he slipped into a dreamless sleep. His sleep was short-lived, however. Seemingly, seconds after he¡¯d closed his eyes, he heard an insistent knock on the door and then the sound of Haley hopping out of bed and striding over to open it. ¡°Thank you,¡± she murmured, then closed the door softly. ¡°Ward?¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± he grumbled, groaning as he turned onto his back. Before he¡¯d gone to sleep, lying on his back had been almost impossible due to the pain of his bruised tailbone. He had to admit, it felt a lot better already. ¡°Listen, we need to talk.¡± ¡°Oh?¡± Haley quietly padded over the floor to sit at the foot of his bed. He shifted his feet to one side, giving her a little more room. ¡°Yeah. I found out where Nevkin is.¡± ¡°You did?¡± ¡°Yep. He¡¯s in a place called Applegrass, and he¡¯s killing off the nobles in the area, taking their lands. I think he¡¯s gone nuts, or, shit, maybe he¡¯s just trying to set up his own little kingdom. I met a marshal, too. He¡¯s the one who¡¯s supposed to investigate your parents¡¯ murder, but he got called off to check into Nevkin¡¯s duels to make sure they¡¯re legit. We¡¯re going to travel with him.¡± ¡°We¡­We need to get ahead of Sonder¡¯s men.¡± ¡°Not anymore, we don¡¯t. We¡¯re going to let ¡®em catch us. In fact, we¡¯ll make a big show of leaving in the morning, make sure a bunch of people see us.¡± ¡°But why?¡± Ward yawned and stretched again, looking down at Haley and smiling. ¡°¡¯Cause when they catch us, I¡¯ll cast the reveal secrets spell on ¡®em, and I¡¯ll make sure the marshal¡¯s watching. I¡¯ve never cast it on a person, but I have a feeling¡ªlet¡¯s call it a hunch¡ªthat whoever¡¯s leading Sonder¡¯s posse will have a few incriminating things to say.¡± ¡°What if they¡¯re violent? What if they attack us?¡± ¡°Well, all the more reason to be traveling with the marshal. I¡¯d like to spend some time chatting him up while we travel¡ªlearn about the laws in this system and whatnot. When Sonder¡¯s men catch us, they¡¯re going to have a bad time. Trust me.¡± Ward grinned and sat up, ¡°Now, since I¡¯ve arranged for us to get a full night¡¯s rest, let¡¯s go stuff our bellies first.¡± 49. Strange Laws 49 ¨C Strange Laws Later that evening, after they¡¯d gotten their fill of a hearty fieldworker¡¯s stew, Ward and Haley returned to their room and tried to fall asleep. Their good intentions met with the harsh reality of scratchy beds, poor ventilation, and minds awake and alert thanks to their four-hour nap in the afternoon. At first, Ward thought it was only he who couldn¡¯t sleep, but after tossing for nearly an hour, Haley spoke up in the darkness, ¡°Can¡¯t sleep either?¡± ¡°Not yet. I¡¯m sure it¡¯ll come.¡± ¡°My mind¡¯s so busy!¡± she almost hissed in her frustration. Ward wanted to ask her if she was thinking about her parents but didn¡¯t want to pry open a wound if it was already closed, so he just asked, ¡°What¡¯s got your mind so busy?¡± ¡°Everything! My cousin, my parents, the killer, Nevkin, you.¡± ¡°Me? What about me?¡± Ward couldn¡¯t help focusing on that selfish issue. ¡°Yes. Mostly about how lucky I am to have met you. How I probably wouldn¡¯t have come out of the catacombs otherwise. I¡¯m just¡­I¡¯m just grateful, I guess, grateful that you¡¯re trying so hard to help me. Now you¡¯re talking about using a dangerous spell to find justice for my parents. Why, Ward? Why are you always going so far out of your way for me?¡± Ward turned onto his side, groaning as he shifted left and right, trying to flatten the straw. ¡°Why? ¡®Cause I like you. I think everything that¡¯s happened to you is shitty, and I don¡¯t like seeing shitty things happen to good people.¡± ¡°So, if you didn¡¯t like me, you wouldn¡¯t do all this?¡± ¡°Hell no.¡± Ward laughed softly. ¡°I¡¯m not a saint, all right? You should know that by now. Look, for whatever reason, we fell in together, and now you¡¯re my partner. We¡¯re a team. I¡¯ve got no one else in this world other than Grace, and you¡¯ve got a bunch of distant relatives who seem to be more assholes than not.¡± ¡°That¡¯s not really true. If I hadn¡¯t come racing into town saying we had to run, you wouldn¡¯t have had to leave the other people you¡¯ve been getting close to. That old woman by the cemetery. Fay¡ªshe really cared about you, you know?¡± ¡°Yeah, I know.¡± Ward sighed and yawned, trying to think of the right words. ¡°I¡¯m probably not good for her, in any case. We have different life goals.¡± He flopped onto his back, stretching his arms up and folding them under his head. The air was muggy, and the night was full of sounds from the inn. ¡°You ever loved anyone?¡± Haley didn¡¯t hesitate to answer, ¡°Not really, I don¡¯t think. Not romantically, I mean. I¡¯ve had boyfriends. I¡¯ve, you know, had sex. I just¡­No, they were boys. I want something more. I don¡¯t want to settle in a small town and flicker like a candle.¡± ¡°Flicker like a candle?¡± ¡°It¡¯s a common saying on Cinder. The challenges make people look at things differently. When we¡¯re kids, we all dream of taking them on¡ª¡®blazing like a star¡¯ rather than ¡®flickering like a candle.¡¯ It¡¯s a romantic notion, I suppose. As we get older, become burdened with responsibilities, and see more and more of our friends disappear into the catacombs, I think we lose some of that dreamer inside us.¡± Ward heard her shift on her mattress, and then her voice came to him again, this time muffled and a little drowsy, ¡°That would¡¯ve been me¡ªone of the cautionary tales. Like my brother.¡± Ward tried to think of the right words to say, a proper response to the emotions she was feeling, but he kept opening his mouth and failing to vocalize anything. He looked around for Grace, hoping, for the first time ever, that she might tell him what to say. Naturally, she wasn¡¯t anywhere to be found. By the time he thought he had to say something¡ªanything¡ªHaley¡¯s breathing had evened out, and he was sure she¡¯d fallen asleep. He stared into the darkness for a long time, listening to her breathe, and eventually, sleep claimed him too. The next day, just as he¡¯d promised, Marshal Aldiss met Ward and Haley as they finished breakfast, and then, only twenty or thirty minutes after sunrise, they rode away from the Crossing on the narrow dirt track that paralleled the big, slow-moving river. The marshal¡¯s horse was a sturdy, shaggy thing that looked more like a pony to Ward, but he, admittedly, didn¡¯t know much about horses and didn¡¯t want to make assumptions. As for his horse, Nutmeg seemed well-rested and full of energy, and Ward felt immensely grateful for the healing salve and hours of sleep¡ªhis thighs and glutes were remarkably pain-free. ¡°You¡¯re looking a lot more comfortable in that saddle than you were yesterday,¡± Haley remarked as they rode a short way behind Aldiss, letting the horses walk as the day woke up. Ward snorted, shifting his hat to relieve an itch. ¡°That¡¯s because every bump isn¡¯t sending shockwaves of pain through my body.¡± She nodded, leaning forward to stroke her horse¡¯s neck as they rode. ¡°I¡¯m glad the salve worked.¡± ¡°Yeah. The hot bath and sleep helped, too, I¡¯m sure.¡± Haley winced and looked at him a little sheepishly. ¡°I don¡¯t smell, do I? I couldn¡¯t bring myself to get into the bath this morning. I went out there, but too many unsavory men were lingering around.¡± ¡°Nah, you¡¯re fine, and I don¡¯t blame you. I¡¯m not a fan of the public bath concept. Hopefully, the next place will have something private.¡± The marshal looked over his shoulder. ¡°There¡¯s a lovely inn at Applegrass Square¡ªbig and well-staffed and appointed. We¡¯re out in the country, but there¡¯s a good-sized community there. While the east-to-west traffic is minimal, a major trade route goes north-south through that valley. The Gravelwash,¡± he gestured to the placid water to the left, ¡°narrows there and can be crossed on an ancient stone bridge.¡± ¡°Ancient?¡± He nodded, scratching his beard as he squinted at the sky. ¡°Well, it has to be¡ªbeen there for at least two burns.¡± ¡°Oh. Yeah, that makes sense.¡± Ward kept forgetting about the strange, constant cycle of fire that moved around the planet. He clicked his tongue and tapped his heels, urging Nutmeg to move closer to the marshal. ¡°Can you talk to me a little about legal procedures in this society, particularly rules of evidence?¡± Aldiss looked at him with a raised eyebrow. ¡°Are you playing a joke? I love to talk about the law and my job, but usually, people aren¡¯t too interested.¡± ¡°No, I¡¯m curious because Haley is the victim of a crime, and I¡¯m trying to figure out how I can help her.¡± ¡°Truly?¡± Aldiss looked at Haley. ¡°Why didn¡¯t you say something sooner?¡± ¡°Well, I wasn¡¯t sure how much to say because I¡¯m pretty sure her situation is related to the reason you were called down to Tarnish. I believe the murder victims you¡¯re meant to investigate were her parents.¡± Aldiss narrowed his eyes and looked from Haley to Ward, then back again. ¡°Is that right? You¡¯re the daughter of Vinera and Efrud Dodson?¡± ¡°Yes, sir.¡± Haley gave Ward a look, which he interpreted as her wondering what he was up to. ¡°I believe her cousin had her parents killed in an attempt to steal their lands and belongings.¡± ¡°That¡¯s quite a claim. Maybe you should start at the beginning. Why would her cousin receive their property upon their deaths? Why not young Haley here?¡± ¡°Well, that¡¯s the interesting part¡ªHaley and her brother had recently disappeared in the Tarnish Catacombs. I was there with them. Her parents were killed on the night of her return, and it was only due to her unexpected presence that the killer didn¡¯t get away clean.¡± Ward went through the whole story as the marshal nodded, stroking his chin in concentration. He explained how he believed Sonder had decided to try to capitalize on Haley and her brother¡¯s disappearance, how he¡¯d hired killers to finish off that branch of the family, and how he¡¯d fabricated a contract to try to show a claim on their property. Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. ¡°Quite a story, and I can see why you¡¯re interested in rules of evidence. It doesn¡¯t sound to me like you have any.¡± ¡°So, suppose I could get some? Suppose I can cast a spell that might make Sonder or his men confess what they¡¯ve been up to. Would that be admissible?¡± That got a reaction out of the marshal. He jerked his gaze away from the road and stared hard at Ward, looking into his eyes. ¡°Aye, it¡¯s no secret you¡¯ve got more than a shine, eh? More than a moonstone glow, even. Know some words, then, do you?¡± ¡°A few.¡± Ward supposed he wasn¡¯t lying¡ªhe only knew two spells, but they were each made up of multiple words. ¡°I¡¯ve got one that reveals hidden truths.¡± ¡°That so?¡± Aldiss hawked a wad of phlegm, spitting to the other side of his mount, then turned and looked at Haley, who was still riding a bit behind. ¡°Pardon that, miss. I spend a bit too much time alone and forget my manners.¡± He turned back to Ward. ¡°Far as evidentiary rules go, I suppose if I witness the spell and deem it compelling, I could use it. Only problem with mana and the words is that I¡¯m not an expert, and it¡¯s possible you could be tricking me somehow. Well, that would be the case, ¡®cept for this.¡± He pulled a brass case out of his breast pocket; it was round, etched with runes, and about the size of a can of chewing tobacco. ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± Ward leaned toward him, trying to get a better look. ¡°This is a little artifact all Marshals of the Assembly are issued upon swearing their final oaths.¡± He flipped the copper lid of the case open, and inside was a needle bobbing around with the motion of his horse. ¡°A compass?¡± Ward guessed. ¡°Of a sort, but this one points out the truth of a person¡¯s words instead of true north.¡± He flipped it closed with a clink and tucked it back into his pocket. ¡°Policy says only to use it with the permission of a witness or, when it comes to suspects, only in the case of imminent danger.¡± ¡°Ah. Makes sense. Well, wouldn¡¯t you say a man paying to have people killed for material gain is something of a threat, especially when he¡¯s got men chasing after Haley?¡± ¡°There are men after her?¡± ¡°Yeah, I hadn¡¯t gotten to that part. Sonder Yates hired some mercenaries to chase Haley down. She has her father¡¯s sword¡ªhers by right¡ªbut he¡¯s trying to squeeze everything he can out of her parents¡¯ estate.¡± Aldiss started to gather another gob of spit, then sheepishly glanced at Haley and swallowed it. With a grimace, he looked at Ward. ¡°I¡¯m starting to see why you wanted to travel with me. Not so much for the company, eh?¡± Ward figured it wouldn¡¯t hurt to butter the man up a little. ¡°Not exactly, but with bloodthirsty thugs on our trail, we¡¯re happy to be in the company of a lawman.¡± ¡°Naturally.¡± Aldiss smirked a little but chuckled good-naturedly and jerked his thumb back the way they¡¯d come. ¡°Well? How far behind us are they?¡± Haley nudged her horse forward. ¡°Depends on how long they rested. They were about half a day behind us before we got to the crossing.¡± When she joined the conversation, it got Ward thinking about Grace, and he wondered where she was. He¡¯d hardly seen her all morning. He supposed she was just laying low, probably afraid the marshal had some means of seeing her. Though, as he considered that thought, he recalled that she hadn¡¯t been shy in the bathhouse. ¡°Well, we¡¯ll pass an apple farm here in an hour or two. We¡¯ll stop there, have a nice stretch, eat some lunch, and then wait for your pursuit. I¡¯m not one to keep strolling along when I¡¯ve got people chasing me.¡± ¡°You¡¯ll help us?¡± Haley asked, hope in her voice. ¡°No promises, but I¡¯ll listen to their case and witness your sorcerer friend¡¯s spell. If nothing comes of it, I¡¯ll at least keep ¡®em from taking your father¡¯s sword until we can have a trial in Tarnish.¡± Haley sounded relieved but also determined, ¡°Thank you, Marshal. I must tell you, though, that I won¡¯t give this sword up. I¡¯ll challenge them to a duel, one by one, if I must.¡± ¡°Oh? Are they on the Road? No matter, I suppose, since you are, and they¡¯re making claims against ya.¡± Aldiss sounded more surprised than bothered. ¡°I¡¯ve certainly officiated a fair number of duels in my day. As I said, I¡¯ll listen to the arguments.¡± Ward wondered how he knew Haley was on ¡°the Road.¡± Was it her association with him, a sorcerer? Haley didn¡¯t reply, and they rode quietly for a while, each of the travelers apparently lost in thought. Ward was thinking about duels and Nevkin, wondering if he¡¯d been a bit too braggadocious with Haley the day before. Was he really up to fighting the kid? He certainly felt like kicking his ass, and if the little shit took things too far, Ward would finish them. That line of thinking led to more questions. ¡°How tough are the local lords or their champions out here in the country?¡± ¡°Ah, you¡¯re wondering about my investigation in Applegrass? It¡¯s a rural community, sure, but the landholders are likely respectable in their prowess. If they¡¯re old or more of a merchant lord, they¡¯ll have hired someone with fighting skills. Still, they won¡¯t be much of a match for a sorcerer, not one with the words to do harm.¡± ¡°So, this guy could just keep claiming land until he¡¯s ruling over a small country? Then he could expand further?¡± ¡°Hah! No. If he keeps up like this, it¡¯ll be more than just the local marshal who comes to look into things. Some sorcerers make a living off fighting duels, hard men and women who look for troublemakers like this and kill ¡®em for their words or artifacts. If I catch wind of two sorcerers fighting, I stay out of it.¡± ¡°So, sorcerers are considered to be on the ¡®Road¡¯ you mentioned?¡± ¡°Most of the time, aye. At least in these parts. On some of the higher worlds, you¡¯ll find plenty of folks who live peaceful lives practicing their brand of magic with no plans to walk the Road. In fact, if you get much past Cinder, you¡¯ll need to register with the Assembly and get yourselves a badge.¡± He eyed Ward sideways for a minute, then asked, ¡°You¡¯re interested in this warlock fellow, aren¡¯t you? You know him?¡± ¡°You¡¯ve got good instincts, Marshal.¡± Ward nodded. ¡°That warlock is named Nevkin, and he stole from me in the catacombs, leaving me for dead. He also hired killers and left them in Tarnish to wait for me if I made it out.¡± ¡°Well, are you wanting me to do something about it? You¡¯ll need evidence in that case¡ª¡± ¡°No, sir. I¡¯ll be handling this matter. I¡¯d appreciate a witness, though.¡± The marshal didn¡¯t reply, and Ward watched the countryside go by for a while, enjoying the morning sun and the clean air. He was glad they weren¡¯t hurrying, and he was glad Aldiss wasn¡¯t angry about him not mentioning his connection to the crimes he was working on. As he thought about that, he realized he didn¡¯t know the marshal well enough to say that. He cleared his throat and broached the topic, ¡°Hey, Marshal Aldiss, I hope you aren¡¯t upset that I didn¡¯t come clean about all this yesterday. I was still feeling things out and wasn¡¯t sure Haley wanted me talking about her business. I, uh, didn¡¯t feel like I knew you well enough to explain all this in the middle of a bath with other strangers listening in.¡± ¡°I understand. Frankly, I¡¯m a little relieved to have you along. Rumors I¡¯m hearing say this warlock fellow is anything but reasonable. I was going to investigate as much as I could without actually confronting him; this sort of madness tends to burn itself out, one way or another.¡± Haley clicked her tongue, urging her mount close again. ¡°What do you mean by that?¡± ¡°As I was telling Ward here¡ªwhen a sorcerer jumps up in power and goes the wrong way with it, taking what he or she wants, killing off the local fighters and lords, word travels fast. Someone with more talent and a mean streak will likely come ¡®round and put ¡®em down. Usually, such a quick rise is due to an artifact or a particularly successful challenge run. In a situation like this, it¡¯s more often than not an unstable mind at work, and, well, those aren¡¯t too fun to deal with, ¡®specially when you¡¯re a marshal without a lick of mana.¡± ¡°Surely you¡¯ve an artifact or two for dealing with dangerous¡ª¡± Haley started to ask, but Aldiss laughed and waved his hand. ¡°Oh, sure, sure. I¡¯ve got my means of handling uppity young sorcerers, but it¡¯s never a sure-fire thing. No, I¡¯ll be happy enough if your friend here wants to put an end to things.¡± Ward was still trying to wrap his head around the weird laws of the land. ¡°But you said you were simply going to see if his duels were on the level. You don¡¯t have to stop him, right?¡± ¡°I¡¯ve seen and heard about too many situations like this. Even if the duels he¡¯s had up to now were legitimate, I¡¯d bet good money he¡¯ll do something worse soon, and then I¡¯ll be riding back to these parts, wasting another two weeks of my life¡­¡± He trailed off, likely deciding he shouldn¡¯t complain so vocally about his job. Everyone seemed content to ride in silence after that, and it wasn¡¯t too much longer before they crested a rise and looked down on a narrow valley bordered by the river and low hills and filled with the neat rows of an apple orchard. ¡°This isn¡¯t Applegrass?¡± Ward asked, noting only one farmstead near the center of the valley. ¡°No, no. Applegrass isn¡¯t an orchard, but it¡¯s a lovely little village where most nearby orchards bring their wares for sale and shipping. As I told ya, there¡¯s a big trade route going through there.¡± He gestured to the farmstead ahead and added, ¡°We¡¯ll get some tarts and cider and have a rest while we await your friends.¡± ¡°Sounds so good.¡± Haley licked her lips, leaning forward and staring at the roadside stand. Ward nodded. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m starved.¡± ¡°Good!¡± Aldiss laughed. ¡°I like to have a full belly if there¡¯s a potential for violence, and it sounds to me like we might have some. I can¡¯t imagine these men will be too happy about being ensorcelled.¡± Ward grunted an affirmative sound. ¡°And if they react violently?¡± ¡°Well, I can¡¯t stand by and watch a pair of travelers get assaulted, can I? Not if the numbers aren¡¯t even.¡± He winked at Ward and laughed, then clicked his tongue, urging his horse into a trot, kicking up some dust as he left Ward and Haley behind, apparently eager to get his hands on an apple tart. Suddenly, Grace was behind Ward, leaning against his back and speaking softly into his ear, ¡°Strange laws in this world, huh?¡± 50. Messy 50 ¨C Messy The orchard farm¡¯s roadside stand sold, as Marshal Aldiss had suggested, cider, apple tarts, pies, and, of course, apples. A teenage boy in a tattered straw hat ran the stand and occupied Aldiss while Ward and Haley watered their horses at a nearby trough. Another group of travelers was on the other side of the road; they¡¯d pulled their wagon into a clearing and were sitting around under an awning they¡¯d deployed from the side. Ward saw three men and two women, and they were laughing, drinking from pale green bottles of cider and passing around a pie tin, taking turns scooping large bites out. ¡°They¡¯re having fun.¡± He nodded toward the group, leaning against Nutmeg¡¯s side while the big horse drank. Haley smiled when she looked over. ¡°Aye. Almost makes me jealous. Are you going to have some pie?¡± ¡°You kidding me?¡± Ward laughed and shook his head. ¡°Soon as Aldiss finishes there, I¡¯m buying us a couple. Let¡¯s split one and save another for the road.¡± Haley nodded at that. She stared at the stand for a minute, then looked at Ward with a much more serious expression. ¡°I doubt those mercenaries will stand still while you try to force the truth out of them with your magic.¡± ¡°How many were there?¡± ¡°I¡¯m not exactly sure. More than two, certainly, but I¡¯m not sure I can tell the difference between the sound of three horses and five. I never got a clear look at the whole group, but I sure heard them galloping up the road.¡± ¡°If there are three, they¡¯d be idiots to try violence with the Marshal here. If there are more than that, they might be stupid enough to mess with us.¡± Ward shrugged, pulled his revolver out, flipped open the cylinder, and ensured his last Earth-made bullet would be the first one he fired. ¡°If they get violent, I¡¯ll even the odds pretty quickly.¡± ¡°Are you certain you can rely on those bullets you bought from the artificer?¡± ¡°No. Not at all.¡± Ward laughed and shook his head. ¡°The test round I fired wasn¡¯t very encouraging. Still, I¡¯ve got six shots, so hopefully, I can do enough damage to cut down their numbers. Then I¡¯ve got this.¡± Ward pointed to the spear he had lashed to his saddle beside his pack. ¡°Did you cast that spell on it? Like the one on your knife?¡± Ward frowned. ¡°That¡¯s a damn good point. I was going to, then things kind of got moving faster than I¡¯d planned.¡± He glanced at the stand and then back to Haley. ¡°Hey, how about you go get us some pies and cider? I¡¯ll sit here and enchant my spear.¡± ¡°That¡¯s a fair proposal! I promised to foot the bill for a while, didn¡¯t I?¡± She handed him Wind Queen¡¯s reins. ¡°Take them over to that patch of green grass, and we¡¯ll meet you there.¡± Ward followed her gesture with his eyes and saw a long strip of lush grass beside the near edge of the orchard. He nodded and gently tugged the two horses¡¯ reins, guiding them away from the trough. As soon as he¡¯d put a little distance between himself and the road, Grace appeared again. ¡°I should have reminded you about the spear.¡± Ward snorted. ¡°Don¡¯t beat yourself up.¡± ¡°You still have the words in your head? For both spells?¡± ¡°Yep. All prepped. I mean, I never lost the uh ¡®strike true¡¯ words.¡± When he reached the grass, he let go of the horses'' reins, trusting their desire to nibble to keep them close by. He looked at Grace. ¡°I don¡¯t need to tie them up, do I?¡± ¡°Not these two. Some horses might bolt, but you can see these are well-trained.¡± Grace flopped onto the ground, lounging in the thick grassy bed. It was soft and probably comfortable, but Ward figured she liked that it was tall enough to obscure her from distant observers, namely the marshal. Catching himself thinking about Grace wanting to be comfortable, he laughed softly at himself. He didn¡¯t think she could even feel it unless he did. ¡°Something funny?¡± ¡°Just my own inability to remember you¡¯re a figment of my imagination.¡± Grace scowled and opened her mouth, but he held up a hand, waving her words off. ¡°I don¡¯t mean that literally. I just mean, you could probably lounge on a bed of lava, right? You don¡¯t care that the grass is soft.¡± Her frown faded, and she shrugged, lying back, plucking a blade of grass and sticking it between her teeth. Ward turned to his horse and unstrapped his spear, lifting it down. It was a sturdy, well-made weapon meant for fighting, not for throwing, but he wondered if his spell would change that, at least for one throw. As he sat, he asked, ¡°Why are you hiding from the marshal? You were fine with him seeing you in the bathhouse last night.¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t realize he was a marshal when I first appeared, and though he never seemed to notice me, I don¡¯t know what kinds of tricks he might have up his sleeve. Better to play it safe than sorry.¡± Ward shrugged, only half listening to her as he held the spear in his lap and looked into his head, studying the words hovering there, waiting to be released. He glanced toward the road and saw that Haley and the Marshal were chatting with the farm kid and that the other travelers were still engrossed in their raucous roadside lunch break. He placed his hands on the spear, stared at it, and released his subtle hold on the words, speaking them softly. They fled his mind like things alive, dancing off his tongue, ¡°Ghruvon truvik prakhun.¡± Despite his soft inflection, they seemed to hit the spear with a physical presence, stabbing into the wooden shaft like nails, etching themselves into it with percussive pops. The spear vibrated in his hands, shivering with eagerness, and Ward could almost feel its desire to be unleashed, sent flying into something. ¡°I love watching you do that!¡± Grace¡¯s words came out in a breathy rush, and Ward smiled at her as she sat up and peered closely at the faintly shivering weapon. ¡°Well, I love doing it. I mean, when the spell doesn¡¯t hurt, it¡¯s pretty damn awesome to work actual magic.¡± He frowned, rubbed his chin, and shrugged. ¡°To be honest, it¡¯s pretty damn cool, even if the spell does hurt.¡± He looked back toward the stand and saw the marshal and Haley approaching, him leading his stout pony, her carrying a well-laden basket in her arms. ¡°Looks like it¡¯s lunchtime.¡± It seemed his words were only for the horses because Grace had fled into his head at the sight of Aldiss. He wondered if she was being overly cautious, but he doubted it¡ªthe guy had tools to tell if someone was lying; it was hard to imagine what else he might have on his person or what skills he might be hiding. Ward watched the two approach, and when Haley drew near, she set the basket onto the grass near him, then plopped herself down with a satisfied sigh and a wide smile. ¡°Don¡¯t they smell amazing?¡± Ward leaned forward, sniffed, and nodded. ¡°Oh yeah. Like mom¡¯s kitchen.¡± His choice of words surprised him; he hadn¡¯t thought about his mom or dad in a long, long time, and the distant memory of his mom baking had really snuck up on him. Still, it was real, and it brought a warm, comfortable feeling into his chest as he watched Haley lift one of the smaller tarts out of the basket. Aldiss let his pony loose near Nutmeg and Wind Queen, and then he, too, sat down in the grass. ¡°Lovely spot for a picnic.¡± ¡°Eat something, Ward!¡± Haley gestured to the basket. Ward nodded and lifted out another tart¡ªthere had to be half a dozen in the basket, so either Haley had gone overboard, or the marshal¡¯s purchases were also in there. Ward lifted out one of the three green bottles stoppered with corks in the basket. ¡°What about the cider? Anyone else want one?¡± ¡°Naturally!¡± Aldiss grabbed a foil-wrapped tart and a bottle. ¡°There are pies at the bottom¡ªtwo of ¡®em. Your young friend here said she¡¯d save those for later, though. Let¡¯s stuff ourselves on tarts while we wait for your company.¡± ¡°Mm!¡± Haley groaned, licking some apple filling off her lower lip and chewing a mouthful that stretched her cheeks with each chomp. ¡°Gods, it¡¯s so good!¡± Ward laughed and unwrapped his tart. He couldn¡¯t deny that his mouth was filling with saliva in anticipation. Fifteen minutes later, buzzing on hard cider and feeling drowsy from a sugar rush, the three travelers were all sprawled out on their backs, watching the clouds and calling out shapes. ¡°That one looks like an apple!¡± Haley pointed off toward the east. Ward followed her finger and laughed when he saw what she meant. It was more like an oblong cotton ball. Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. ¡°You¡¯ve just got apples on the brain.¡± ¡°I do; that¡¯s for certain!¡± Haley laughed. ¡°I¡¯m so close to dozing off. A nap in this warm sunshine would be so nice¡­¡± ¡°Go ahead,¡± Aldiss grunted as he pushed himself to his feet. ¡°I¡¯ll keep a lookout.¡± He looked down at Ward. ¡°You too, if you¡¯d like, Ward.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll just relax here. Doubt I¡¯ll fall asleep.¡± Ward folded his arms under his head and added, ¡°Should we take the tack off the horses?¡± The warden shook his shaggy head, reaching up to pull some of his thick hair away from his bright purple eyes. ¡°Nah. We might need to ride in a hurry, one way or t¡¯other.¡± He walked over to his pony and dug around in his capacious saddlebags, lifting out a short-barreled firearm that made Ward think of a cross between a blunderbuss and a sawed-off shotgun. It was made of dark gray metal with a fancifully engraved wooden stock. ¡°This is Velvet. I named her that ¡®cause she¡¯s so smooth and gentle. A squeeze of the trigger and she¡¯ll let loose a cloud of fire that¡¯ll seem a damned sight too big for her dainty barrel.¡± ¡°Oh?¡± Ward cocked an eyebrow. ¡°Aye. I tell you that so you don¡¯t get in front of me if things get ugly. She¡¯s only got the one charge, though, so after you see her let loose, feel free to move about.¡± Ward yawned and nodded. ¡°Fair enough.¡± He heard the marshal move off, stomping through the grass, and figured he was off to do a little patrolling while they waited for the mercenaries. ¡°I¡¯m not going to sleep,¡± Haley murmured. ¡°No?¡± Ward turned his head toward her and saw she was looking his way. ¡°Not when the men chasing us are coming because of me. I¡¯ll stay alert. In fact, I¡¯ll probably do my Gopah forms. I should be primed, just in case.¡± Ward grunted and sat up. He supposed she was right¡ªthey should stay alert. ¡°Yeah, I just hope those guys are really coming. Hate to waste a day sitting around here if they aren¡¯t on our heels.¡± ¡°They are. Believe me; ever since they started chasing me out near my parents¡¯ country home, I¡¯ve felt them here.¡± She sat up, too, and pressed her palm against her stomach. ¡°I don¡¯t know if it¡¯s the Gopah or what, but I can sense them coming. I think they¡¯re close.¡± ¡°Sounds like nerves, but I¡¯ve seen too much strange stuff in this world to doubt that feeling.¡± Ward hopped to his feet and lifted his spear, holding it in his left hand like a walking stick, with the point in the air. He was still determined to use his pistol first; he¡¯d shot thousands of rounds in his life and had almost no experience with a spear¡ªnothing but a few hours here and there in the Corps when he¡¯d had to learn some ceremonial movements. He stood there, with a view of the road, and watched Haley go through her forms. She¡¯d removed her coat when the sun started to climb toward noon, and her leather vest and loose, cottony pants allowed her to move with feline grace as she snapped her fists from one position to another. The forms were more than just punching¡ªshe lifted her knees and stepped in complicated patterns that shifted her direction as she fought off imaginary attackers from every direction. Soon, a thin sheen of sweat covered her shoulders and arms, taut with wiry muscles, and it wasn¡¯t long before her fists began to radiate heat of their own, causing the air to shimmer around them. Ward couldn¡¯t help feeling inspired when he saw her moving that way. She was graceful and strong and vibrant, and it made him feel like a slug standing around leaning on his spear. In that moment, he determined to take Haley up on her offer. He¡¯d study the sword with her, and maybe, if they had time between lessons, he¡¯d let her teach him some of that Gopah business. She¡¯d said the skills would transfer to swordwork, after all, right? His musing was cut short when the marshal reappeared, jogging toward them from the ditch near the roadway where he¡¯d, apparently, been watching the approaching lane. ¡°They come! Many riders!¡± ¡°Shit,¡± Ward sighed, yanking his pistol out of its holster. He looked at Haley, and she made eye contact with him, nodding, but kept working on her forms. Her fists were practically glowing with heat now. Ward walked past her, waiting for the marshal as he jogged their way. ¡°What¡¯s the deal?¡± he asked as the stocky man arrived, puffing for breath. ¡°Saw seven horses coming quickly. They¡¯ll be here in seconds.¡± ¡°Do we run?¡± ¡°Why? Law¡¯s on your side, isn¡¯t it?¡± The marshal gave Ward a measuring look, raising an eyebrow. ¡°If you¡¯re asking if I was lying about that business, then no, I wasn¡¯t. Haley didn¡¯t do anything wrong, and her bastard cousin is trying to screw her over.¡± Ward felt a growl enter his voice, the words coming from deep in his chest. He knew he felt protective of Haley, but at that moment, it dawned on him that he was getting ready to fight and possibly kill for her. Again. ¡°Fair enough, Ward. We¡¯ll see how this plays out.¡± Aldiss stood beside him, about five feet away, facing the road. They couldn¡¯t see very far due to the orchard trees encroaching the roadway, but it didn¡¯t take long for Ward to hear the thunder of hooves. The approaching horses weren¡¯t walking. Dust rose over the trees, and then the first of the riders came into view, thundering toward the roadside stand. The rider was tall, wore a dark coat and hat, and scanned left to right as he went. When he laid eyes on the other travelers on the far side of the road and then on Ward and the marshal with Haley behind them, he jerked on his reins, pulling his frothing stallion to a halt. In seconds, half a dozen other riders had pulled up with him. They were a good fifty yards away, but Ward could see them pointing and gesturing and knew they were coming over before they started across the ditch and onto the grass. They came at a walk, their mounts heaving and snorting for wind. Each of the riders readied a weapon¡ªfrom a crossbow to a club to a musket-like rifle. When they were a mere ten yards distant, the man in the lead hopped off his horse and gestured for the others to wait while he strolled forward, his hand resting on the basket hilt of a long rapier-type sword. He was a tall, lanky fellow with a long, dark mustache and a thin, wispy beard that clung to his jawline. He glanced at Ward with narrowed eyes, looked past him, undoubtedly taking in Haley, who¡¯d only just stopped moving through her forms, and then settled his gaze on the marshal. His eyes were obscured by the shadow cast by his wide-brimmed hat, which matched his coat''s supple, dark leather. He looked like someone who¡¯d spent a lot of time on the road¡ªruddy, windblown, and not at all weary from their recent ride. ¡°Is that a marshal, I see? How serendipitous!¡± His voice was deeper than Ward expected. ¡°Marshal Aldiss at your service. What can I do for you, gents?¡± Ward glanced over the other riders as the marshal spoke, wondering if they were all ¡®gents,¡¯ as Aldiss said. It looked like it¡ªseven men, all hard-looking with mismatched armor here and there and quite a few weapons in addition to those clutched in their fists. ¡°We¡¯ve come for that young lady. She¡¯s wanted back in Tarnish.¡± He nodded toward Haley, who, at that moment, had stepped up beside Ward. He could feel the heat radiating off her. ¡°You¡¯ve a warrant? What¡¯s your name, sir?¡± Aldiss stepped forward, his weird blunderbuss held crossways over his chest, the barrel resting in the crook of his left arm. ¡°Oh, naturally. I¡¯m Rask Leverne, and I¡¯m here on behalf of Sonder Yates, whom this woman has recently robbed.¡± He reached into his vest and pulled out a folded sheaf of yellowed parchment. ¡°May I approach?¡± ¡°Come on, then. Let me see ¡®em.¡± The marshal stepped forward again, meeting Rask halfway. Aldiss had to lower his gun so he could take the documents in his left hand, and then, sighing in frustration, he tucked the short, stocky weapon under his arm so he could use his right hand, too, unfolding the papers. While Aldiss scanned the documents, Rask moved back a few steps and nodded to Haley. ¡°Well, well, Miss Haley. Quite a chase. Seems you ran out of steam, though, yeah?¡± Haley started to respond, but Ward nudged her with his elbow. She clamped her mouth shut with a grimace. Just a second later, Aldiss shook his head and looked up. ¡°This isn¡¯t a judicial warrant, sir. This is signed by someone named¡ªgah!¡± With a twang, the man with the crossbow loosed a bolt that struck the marshal square in the chest. He gasped, groaned, burbled out some blood, and fell onto his butt. While Ward¡¯s eyes bugged out of his head, several things happened at once: Rask whipped his rapier from its scabbard, Haley lunged forward and swept his legs with a move that looked like something out of a breakdancing movie, and Marshal Aldiss, still gasping, sitting on his ass, fired Velvet, sending a belch of flame into the cluster of mounted men that looked like a plume of dragon¡¯s breath. Several horses caught fire, several men did, too, and chaos ensued as the animals panicked, throwing their riders, charging in every direction. Ward snapped out of his shock, that icy feeling of clarity washing over him that he always felt in a firefight. He pointed his pistol at Rask as he started to stand, gently squeezing the trigger. The satisfying click as the hammer snapped down, initiating the boom of gunpowder as it delivered hot lead to Rask¡¯s forehead, brought a wicked grin to Ward¡¯s face. Haley leaped at one of the men who¡¯d been thrown, landing a punch to his chest that seemed to immolate him from the inside out. His mouth opened in a silent scream, and then tongues of flame licked out on his final breath as he fell and proceeded to burn. Ward took aim at one of the other men and squeezed the trigger. This time, the click and the boom were different. At first, Ward wasn¡¯t sure what the hell happened as a burst of black smoke engulfed him, and his hand went numb, but when he stumbled back and held the gun up, the puzzle resolved:¡ªthe damn thing had exploded. He still clutched the grip and a piece of blackened metal, but when he let go, dropping the remains of his beloved pistol to the grass, he saw his hand was black and red, and the meat between his thumb and forefinger looked like raw hamburger. Groaning, furious, and worried about Haley, he looked up to see she¡¯d downed another of the attackers. Still, another was charging at her with a raised axe, and three more were getting their horses under control not far away, already turning back toward the melee. ¡°Goddamn it!¡± Ward growled, his fury slowly supplanting his pain and worry, and hefted his spear, ignoring the screaming agony in his hand. ¡°All right then, you dirty bastards! Let¡¯s get messy!¡± 51. Too Many Graves 51 ¨C Too Many Graves Ward started for the man swinging the axe Haley¡¯s way, but she didn¡¯t need rescuing. In a move that left him blinking, she surged forward and planted a foot in his chest, knocking him sprawling. Meanwhile, the other three mercenaries ran full-out toward them, one with two short swords held ready, one with a spear not unlike Ward¡¯s, and another with a wicked-looking axe. Ward spared a glance to the marshal, wondering if he¡¯d come through with another assist, but the grizzled lawman was lying on his back, eyes open, blood sputtering from his lips with each ragged breath. Growling in anger and grimacing in pain, Ward lifted his spear like one does when preparing to launch a javelin. ¡°Are you sure you should do that?¡± Grace cried, suddenly dancing in front of him for attention. Ward ignored her; he knew exactly what he was doing. He would have been just as concerned by the foolhardiness if not for his firm belief in the enchantment he¡¯d just put on the spear. He figured that, if he survived, he could try to puzzle out where that faith was coming from, seeing how he¡¯d never even used a weapon he¡¯d enchanted. Still, he was sure, and with that sense of certainty, he took two running steps and launched the spear at the three men, still a good twenty or thirty yards distant, aiming at the guy in the front who also happened to be holding a spear. His erstwhile polearm didn¡¯t leap from his hand gracefully; it wobbled and flexed with the amount of force he¡¯d put into the throw, but, somehow, it straightened out and streaked through the air with a faint buzzing hum. Ward could swear he saw some weird magical force waves rippling along its length, and then, with a satisfying crunch and a strangled scream from his victim, it blasted through the spearman¡¯s chest and drove him back to sprawl flat on the grass, utterly still. Ward jerked his knife out of its scabbard and glanced at Haley. She was astraddle her latest victim¡¯s chest, pummeling his face into a pulp. The pain in Ward¡¯s hand had faded to background noise as his adrenaline surged, and now he charged toward the last two men, both wielding far more formidable weapons but both looking like they were ready to break. Their party of seven had been demolished in a matter of seconds, and now Ward¡ªbig, imposing in his dark hat, with eyes that blazed with mana¡ªcharged them, holding a knife that rippled with magical power. It was too much for the guy with the two short swords. He turned to run, fumbling to sheath his swords, dropping one as he made tracks for the road and one of the panicked horses that had slowed to a walk. Holding the axe before him, the last guy slowly backed away from Ward. He was large and bearded, wearing a leather vest and road-stained woolen clothes. Ward could see scorch marks on his forearms where Marshal Aldiss had burned him. ¡°Easy there, stranger!¡± he said, shifting the axe up and down like he was trying to warn Ward off. ¡°I just follow the captain¡¯s orders, and he¡¯s dead now. I got no quarrel with you.¡± ¡°You knew he was going to spring a trap. You planned to kill me and that marshal and take Haley. Think I¡¯d rather not leave you nipping at my heels.¡± Ward flipped the knife, catching the long, wide blade between his fingers, then lifted it to throw. The guy tried to turn and run but slipped in the grass and tumbled. He got to his feet, scrambling around, dropping his axe, and Ward almost felt sorry for him enough to let him go. Then, he felt a twinge of pain in his blasted hand. With a spiteful grimace, he hurled the knife and watched it flip through the air to sink, dead-center, into the mercenary¡¯s spine. He collapsed with a soft, wheezing sigh, and Ward frowned, upset with himself and feeling instantly regretful. He lifted his gaze from the dying man and looked for the runner. He¡¯d snagged the reins of an unburned horse and was whipping it into a frenzied gallop already a hundred yards up the road, back the way they¡¯d come. ¡°Should I go after him?¡± he asked the air, mostly talking to himself. Grace, of course, replied, ¡°These men had no loyalty to Haley¡¯s cousin. I bet he¡¯ll try to hire onto a caravan back at the crossing, hoping to disappear. I wouldn¡¯t worry about him.¡± Ward spent a couple of minutes retrieving his spear and knife, aware that Haley was tending to the marshal who, miraculously, was still clinging to life. When he walked up, leaning on his bloody spear, Haley was delicately dripping some kind of honey-thick, milky fluid into the hole where she¡¯d extracted the crossbow bolt. ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± ¡°A potent healing elixir,¡± the marshal replied, sounding much healthier than he had a right to. ¡°It will stop the bleeding but takes a mighty toll on a person¡¯s organs. I might not live past tomorrow, but thanks to you two, I¡¯ll live to record this crime.¡± He clutched the sheaf of papers in his fist, grunting with effort as he waved them at Ward. ¡°The fool handed me his contract with Sonder Yates. I¡¯ll hold the employer responsible for the crimes of the employee.¡± ¡°Nice damn timing on that little flame thrower of yours.¡± Ward nodded to the blunderbuss lying in the grass. ¡°Velvet? She practically fired herself. A lucky turn of events. You and your companion here certainly capitalized.¡± Haley sat back and screwed the cap onto the tiny silver flask. ¡°I think it¡¯s healing. You have to be positive, Marshal.¡± ¡°Aye, I do, I do.¡± He shifted up on one elbow to better look around. When he focused on Ward, he must have noticed that he was carefully holding his wounded hand away from his body. ¡°Spread a few drops on Ward¡¯s hand, missy. Such a flesh wound won¡¯t require much of a toll from the rest of his body.¡± ¡°Oh.¡± Ward looked down at his swollen, throbbing appendage. ¡°Thanks.¡± He held his hand out, fingers splayed so Haley could reach it more easily. When she got close and saw the mutilated flesh above his thumb, spreading into the meat of his palm, she took a sharp breath and hissed a curse he¡¯d never heard. ¡°That¡¯s awful! What happened?¡± ¡°You didn¡¯t notice my pistol exploding?¡± Ward laughed, shaking his head in chagrin. ¡°Can¡¯t blame the poor thing; those bullets were¡­a bad judgment call.¡± ¡°One of ¡®em got away?¡± Aldiss asked, grunting, red-faced, trying to get into a sitting position. ¡°Yeah, he was in a hurry to be somewhere. Dropped one of his swords in the grass over there.¡± Aldiss grunted, nodding while digging around his leather belt satchel. He pulled out a thin leather-bound book that looked like a journal and began thumbing through it. ¡°I¡¯m recording this event right now in my Marshal Log. Even if I die, the authorities will know what happened. You shouldn¡¯t have to worry about Sonder Yates after this, young Haley.¡± ¡°Truly?¡± ¡°That¡¯s right. Everything I write here gets transcribed into the master book on Primus. They¡¯ll know if I pass and send another to take my place. Such is the never-ending circle of the law.¡± Haley had just unstoppered the little flask but turned back to Aldiss, scowling. ¡°You¡¯re not going to die.¡± ¡°You can¡¯t see what¡¯s happening inside me, sweet girl.¡± He coughed as he finished speaking, and Ward saw flecks of blood before he wiped his lips. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, lass. I¡¯m gonna do my best to hang on.¡± He began to scribble in his book, and Ward felt a cold drop on the back of his hand. Haley had poured a tiny amount of the silky-smooth liquid just above the worst of his mangled flesh. While he watched, she delicately smoothed it, bit by bit, into his wound. He¡¯d thought it might sting, but it brought instant relief. ¡°God, that¡¯s better,¡± he sighed, once again thankful for the healing magic in his new reality. Frowning, he looked down at the marshal, still scribbling in his book. ¡°If you drank this, for your internal wounds, it would¡­drain you more?¡± ¡°Afraid so, Ward. If I drank it, I¡¯d heal up for a few hours, but then I¡¯d like as not keel over with a dead heart or something even uglier.¡± ¡°We have some healing tonics¡­¡± ¡°He drank one already.¡± Haley looked up at Ward, shaking her head rather grimly. ¡°Aye, thanks lad. Again, I would¡¯ve died already if not for your friend here¡ªif not for you both slaying those scoundrels. It¡¯s in the gods¡¯ hands now.¡± ¡°Turn it,¡± Haley said, gently taking his uninjured fingers and showing him what she wanted. She dripped a few more drops of the potent healing balm on his palm and around the base of his thumb, then very lightly spread them around, bringing him almost instant relief wherever she touched. ¡°Damn, that stuff¡¯s good.¡± Ward felt his breath coming more easily, and it was only then that he realized how tense he¡¯d been from the pain. Even so, a faint, dull headache had begun to pound at the base of his skull, and he noted his hand trembling slightly in Haley¡¯s grip. Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work! ¡°His skin¡¯s getting hot.¡± Haley looked up at Ward, concern in her eyes. ¡°It¡¯s just the elixir. He¡¯ll have a bit of a fever, but that¡¯s about all. It¡¯ll pass in an hour or so, Ward.¡± The marshal looked up from his book and tsked. ¡°A pity you didn¡¯t get to use your magic. I¡¯d have liked a bit more information about this Sonder Yates fellow and his scheme.¡± ¡°It works on objects, too. I could try it on that contract.¡± ¡°Look.¡± Haley nodded toward the road. Ward followed her gesture and saw the other travelers cautiously approaching through the field. There were four of them, two men and two women. One of the men and one of the women held spears, but the others had empty hands. When they saw him looking their way, the taller woman with the spear brushed back her lengthy, black hair, blown into her face by the soft breeze, and called out, ¡°Are you hurt?¡± A short, muscular man shouted, ¡°We saw them vagabonds ride out and attack ya!¡± ¡°We¡¯re okay,¡± the marshal hollered, though it sent him into a coughing fit. The four kept coming, and Ward felt a little shiver of paranoia as he wondered if they might be coming to kick them while they were down. Haley was still smoothing that wonderful tincture into his sore hand, so he stood a little straighter and shifted the spear to look like he¡¯d be able to use it if he had to. ¡°We mean no harm; only wish to see if we can help,¡± the tall woman said. Ward nodded as they walked up and pointed at Aldiss. ¡°This is Marshal Aldiss, and those bastards shot him in the chest with a crossbow. I¡¯m pretty sure he¡¯s still bleeding in his lung.¡± ¡°Oh my!¡± the other woman cried, stepping forward. She was small, with very short red hair and ears that almost looked elfin with faint points. Her eyes were big and pale brown, and Ward could see from the flush of her cheeks that she was still feeling the cider they¡¯d all been drinking earlier. She practically fell to her knees beside Aldiss and pressed her delicate little hand to his forehead. ¡°You poor man!¡± ¡°My Desra¡¯s an herbalist and a healer,¡± the stocky man said, leaning on his spear. ¡°Your friend¡¯s in good hands.¡± Desra looked up and, in a tone that didn¡¯t allow room for argument, said, ¡°Come, Rollo, help me get this fellow over to our wagon.¡± Aldiss tried to sputter an objection, but he gave in and let the strangers get him up to his feet. Ward stood back, and so did Haley, still clutching his fingers. ¡°Wait up,¡± he called after the trio. ¡°He used some of this tincture. He said it takes a toll on a person¡¯s body.¡± As he spoke, Haley held up the little flask. ¡°Oh!¡± Desra hurried back. ¡°Can I see that? It¡¯ll help me figure out how to help him.¡± Haley handed it over. ¡°Of course.¡± As the healer returned to Rollo and the marshal, the tall woman said, ¡°I¡¯m Gail, and you two are welcome to share our supper while Desra tends to the marshal.¡± ¡°Uh, thanks.¡± Ward smiled and nodded to Haley. ¡°This is Haley, and I¡¯m Ward. We¡¯ll see to these dead and the horses, then come over.¡± Gail nodded, and she and the other man joined the others, walking back toward the road, the marshal leaning heavily on Rollo, the stocky spearman. ¡°Ward!¡± Aldiss said, struggling to stop and turn. Everyone¡¯s eyes turned to him, and Ward raised an eyebrow. ¡°Yeah?¡± ¡°Pick up Velvet for me, and don¡¯t forget what you said. Let¡¯s try your magic on that contract when you get done there.¡± Ward nodded. ¡°All right.¡± Haley sighed and stretched her neck. ¡°They seemed nice.¡± She looked down at her hands, seemed startled that she was still holding onto Ward¡¯s, and abruptly let go. Ward lifted his hand, turning this way and that, examining the damage. The healing stuff she¡¯d gently applied was doing wonders¡ªtender pink flesh was already filling in where his skin had been blasted off, and the burns were all but gone. ¡°Wow. Honestly, I¡¯m surprised I didn¡¯t lose any fingers.¡± ¡°Looked like the explosion mostly went outward. You are lucky,¡± Grace said, suddenly standing by his side, peering closely at his wounds. ¡°Well, let¡¯s check these bodies and stack ¡®em¡­shit, do you think we need to bury them?¡± Haley groaned. ¡°I¡¯ll see if that farmer kid will lend us some shovels. They¡¯ll probably want a say in where we plant these rotten fruit.¡± ¡°Right.¡± Ward rubbed his hand over his head, brushing the sweat away from his face, thinking about the hours of digging ahead of him. While Haley jogged over to the road, he took his time going through the mercenaries'' belongings and pulling them into a row. He found a few hundred glories, a few assorted weapons, and a broken musket-type thing that he snapped in half in a fit of rage as he thought about his ruined Smith & Wesson. He threw a few knives, a crossbow, an axe, a spear, and a sword into a pile. That¡¯s when he saw two of the mercenaries¡¯ horses had returned and were mingling with Wind Queen, Nutmeg, and the Marshal¡¯s pony. ¡°At least we¡¯ll have a couple of spare horses out of the deal.¡± Haley returned with two shovels and instructions to ¡°bury the criminals in the field where they fell.¡± So, Ward and Haley got to work, digging graves that would not have made a gravedigger proud but were deep enough to keep animals from getting to the bodies. They piled the extra dirt atop the six holes and, sweaty and dirty, stood there in the last rays of the setting sun, contemplating their toils. ¡°I¡¯m digging too many graves in this world.¡± ¡°You didn¡¯t do this back home?¡± Haley asked, quirking her lips into a sly smile. ¡°Hah. Nope. Back home, in the city where I lived, if you kill someone, there are professionals who handle the mess while you either get a commendation or go to jail.¡± She leaned on her shovel, wiping her sweaty bangs away from her eyes. ¡°Did you ever go to jail?¡± ¡°Nope. Guess I managed to convince the right people that my killing was done for a good cause. Shit, most of my killing was done in a warzone.¡± ¡°I never killed anyone before I met you.¡± Haley¡¯s voice was soft, and Ward could see her eyes were looking at something a million miles away. ¡°So, it¡¯s my fault, huh?¡± ¡°No!¡± She punched him in the arm. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean that. I just meant¡­I guess I meant life isn¡¯t usually like this here.¡± Ward stretched and shouldered his shovel. ¡°I guess that¡¯ll depend, won¡¯t it? Doesn¡¯t seem like we¡¯re on a path for pacifists.¡± He pointed to the horses. ¡°Let¡¯s get all our stuff and the horses and set up a camp next to their wagon. We should check on Aldiss.¡± ¡°Okay.¡± She led the way, and they gathered up the extra weapons, the five mounts, and dropped the shovels off with the kid still sitting at his apple stand. Ward bought the rest of his hard cider¡ªeleven bottles¡ªand they found a clear patch of grass near the other travelers¡¯ wagons. While they brushed and watered the horses, the big, dark-haired woman, Gail, came over. ¡°Your friend¡¯s doing better. Desra brewed him a healing vapor, and his lung seems to be healing.¡± ¡°That¡¯s wonderful!¡± Haley said, somehow managing a genuine smile despite being dog-tired. ¡°That¡¯s good news.¡± Ward stifled a yawn. ¡°Will you two join us for some roasted chicken? We¡¯ve two fat birds over the fire.¡± ¡°I smelled it!¡± Haley gushed. ¡°I was just telling Ward I was starving. He bought enough cider for everyone!¡± ¡°Oh? More cider¡¯s always welcome,¡± Gail laughed, and Ward noted a pale scar under her right eye and the hard, weathered look of her skin, especially on her hands, which were also crisscrossed with tiny white scars. She looked like a fighter to him. Ward and Haley secured their mounts, and he carried his box of clinking cider bottles over to the fire, handing them out to each of the others where they sat. As Ward and Haley joined them, he looked around the fire, meeting everyone¡¯s gaze, and said, ¡°Let¡¯s see here, Gail, Desra, Rollo.¡± He paused, staring at the other man, a slight, narrow-faced fellow with shrewd, dark eyes. ¡°Don¡¯t think I caught your name.¡± ¡°That¡¯s Tarn,¡± Gail said, ¡°my brother.¡± ¡°Nice to meet you all.¡± Ward lifted his cider bottle, leaning to his left, clinking it against Gail¡¯s. Everyone followed suit, and then they all drank, even Marshal Aldiss, who seemed to be feeling a lot better as he reclined against a saddle. Gail grinned as she leaned close to Ward. ¡°Tell me, Ward, where¡¯d you learn to throw a spear like that? I¡¯ve never seen anything like it, and I¡¯ve been fighting with spears most of my life. I mean, I¡¯ve seen men throw spears, even seen them throw one that far, but not a big fighting spear. That thing¡¯s not meant for it.¡± ¡°He used a spell,¡± Haley said, waving her hand. ¡°You all saw his eyes, right?¡± Ward looked at her, unsure if he should smile or scowl, wondering if he ought to be annoyed that she was talking about his magic like that. Was she being careless, or was she trying to remind these folks that they shouldn¡¯t mess with the two of them? He noticed Grace had made herself scarce as soon as they came back to the road, and he wondered if she was still worried about the marshal or if she thought one of these others might notice her. His distracted thoughts were cut short as Gail leaned even closer, peering at his eyes. ¡°It¡¯s true, isn¡¯t it?¡± He shrugged. ¡°Yeah. Anyway, Haley killed as many as I did¡ªshe¡¯s a Gopah master.¡± ¡°No wonder they put all six down and sent the last one running for the hills!¡± Rollo crowed, slapping his knee and taking another big swig of cider. It had gotten dark, and the fire crackled pleasantly, flaring as some chicken fat fell into the coals. It smelled heavenly. ¡°Ward,¡± the marshal said, clearing his throat and sitting up straighter. ¡°I think I may live, but I¡¯d like to get my report finished. Do you think you can try your magic on this contract?¡± ¡°Oh!¡± Haley said, licking cider off her lips. ¡°Wait until you see this!¡± 52. Deputy 52 ¨C Deputy Ward looked around the circle¡ªthey¡¯d all stepped away from the campfire, and the travelers, Haley, and the marshal stood around Ward as he looked at the contract written in dense script on thick, beige paper. ¡°Listen, you all might want to stand back a little more. I don¡¯t know what kind of secrets this contract might reveal, but it can be a little unsettling.¡± ¡°If you¡¯ve never heard a spell spoken, you may want to cover your ears,¡± Aldiss added, leading by example, stuffing his thick pinkies into his ears. Haley nodded, covering her ears and taking a step back. Ward waited a few seconds, watching as some of the others followed suit. When he felt like he¡¯d given them a generous enough warning, he focused on the documents in his hands and then looked inward to the sharp, dangerous-looking words that hung in his mind¡¯s eye. They were eager to be let loose, and they looked like they¡¯d take a piece of him with them on their way out. Ward clutched a healing tonic much like the one he¡¯d drunk back in the inn after using the spell, but it didn¡¯t make it any easier to find the nerve to say them. In his mind, he compared it to someone having to poke a knife through their hand, knowing they could be healed immediately after¡ªit probably wouldn¡¯t make that initial thrust of the blade any easier. Still, he gritted his teeth, cleared his throat, and said, ¡°Shrovak gnyrath!¡± The words burst from his lips like windblown splinters. They cracked through the air, stabbing into the contract and then howling away into the darkness, sending each and every witness reeling. Tarn fell to his knees, belatedly slapping his hands to his ears. His sister gripped his shoulder, clearly struggling to remain upright. Despite his injuries, the marshal held his ground, only taking a single step back while he watched the weird effects of the spell. Ward immediately tasted blood and felt hot tears on his cheeks, so he didn¡¯t waste time quaffing the tonic. As the warm, healing magic spread through him, he, too, watched the secrets of the contract unfold. Shadows, illuminated by sourceless, purple light, began to stream from the documents in his hand, swirling in the air and falling to the grass where they gathered and pooled, shifting and writhing. When the cold, almost fluid-like stuff stopped flowing from the documents, Ward backed up several steps to watch what the luminescent, purple-hued shadowy stuff would reveal. It began to separate into two distinct shapes. As they elongated, solidifying into faintly glowing figures, details began to emerge, and soon Ward and everyone else could see that two spectral men were standing in the circle facing each other. ¡°That¡¯s my cousin!¡± Haley cried, pointing to the one on the right. ¡°And that¡¯s the leader of them mercenaries,¡± Aldiss grunted, jerking his thumb at the other. As the phantom Haley had identified as Sonder Yates began to speak, she hissed, ¡°Shh!¡± Everyone stared in rapt fascination as the two figures held a conversation. ¡°This is of great urgency!¡± Sonder¡¯s specter said, waving a shadowy sheaf of papers. His voice followed the movement of his lips after a slight delay, like an echo from down in a well or a long stone corridor. ¡°Well,¡± Despite the strange echoing nature of the sound, it was the same, unmistakable voice Ward, Haley, and Aldiss had heard Rask Leverne use earlier that day, ¡°you¡¯ve certainly fucked the hog on this one. I thought you said she was dead.¡± Sonder snarled and stuffed the contract against Rask¡¯s chest. ¡°She was supposed to be¡ªsomehow came out of the catacombs weeks after the others.¡± ¡°And she killed your assassin?¡± Rask snorted. ¡°Killed him, and now she¡¯s here in the valley, raiding her parent¡¯s country home. I want that damn sword! Take your men and hurry!¡± ¡°You have her on theft, then, yes? You want me to bring her back for a trial?¡± Sonder¡¯s specter had begun to turn away, but he whirled on Rask. ¡°No, fool! I don¡¯t want my contract with her father scrutinized! Ensure she has an accident or resists or whatever you do in such a case.¡± ¡°Ah! Tut-tut, Sonder, my boy. This one will cost you a bit more¡ª¡± ¡°Take the extra fee out of her hide if you want. Teach that bitch what happens to those who meddle with what¡¯s mine!¡± As though the spell knew the secrets had been spilled, the specters began to soften at the edges, and the gentle evening breeze blew them away like wisps of smoke from the nearby campfire. ¡°That horrible, evil, dirty little¡ª¡± Haley¡¯s face was red with fury, and her hands were clenched to the point that heat was starting to shimmer in the air around them. She cut herself off and stomped away from the group toward the road. ¡°Great Gods!¡± Desra slumped to the ground, shaking her head in wonder as she watched the faint wisps of purple, smoky shadows dissipate. ¡°I ain¡¯t never seen anything like that,¡± Tarn groaned, still holding his hands over his ears. The others started babbling, but Ward tuned them out, eyes on the marshal, who stared at the compass-like truth artifact in his hand. When he saw Ward¡¯s softly glowing eyes on him, he nodded. ¡°Everything rang true, both to my senses and this artifact. I¡¯m going to accept this as evidence, Ward. See to your friend while I write my report. You can assure her that justice will find Sonder Yates.¡± Ward nodded and walked away without another word. He found Haley sitting about halfway between the road and the graves they¡¯d dug earlier. As he approached, he paused momentarily to look at the burial site; in the darkness, he could see the clouds of mana gathering above the low dirt mounds they¡¯d packed atop the holes. ¡°What?¡± Grace asked, noting his gaze. ¡°Mana.¡± ¡°You should try to gather some!¡± ¡°Yeah. Let me talk to Haley first. I should probably memorize my spells, too. Even the true strike spell is almost gone from my head. I might be able to get one more use out of it.¡± Grace didn¡¯t reply, which Ward took to mean she agreed with him. He walked over to his young friend and plopped down on the grass beside her. Before he could say anything, Haley looked at him and smiled. ¡°I heard you talking to Grace.¡± ¡°Yeah, she doesn¡¯t seem worried about the marshal anymore.¡± ¡°She was worried about him?¡± ¡°Worried he might have a way to see her. She¡¯s afraid some folks will react badly to her.¡± Haley snorted, shaking her head. ¡°If I didn¡¯t believe your story about her, I¡¯d have to point out that you sound positively mad.¡± Ward laughed. ¡°I can see that. Hey, you all right? You seemed pretty pissed a minute ago.¡± ¡°I¡¯m furious, but at least I have someone to be angry at. You know, I think I¡¯d felt guilty about my parents before. I mean, back when we thought Nevkin had killed them in his attempts to get at us. Now I know it was my scheming cousin all along, and I can only wonder what else he might have tried if he hadn¡¯t thought Fost and I were dead. What did the marshal say?¡± ¡°Aldiss? He believes the spell. He said he¡¯ll take it as evidence and that your cousin will face justice.¡± ¡°Really?¡± Haley leaned closer and grabbed Ward¡¯s coat lapel, squeezing and tugging it excitedly. ¡°I thought sure he¡¯d say he couldn¡¯t trust the magic or something along those lines!¡± ¡°Nope. He used that little device of his.¡± Ward shrugged. ¡°Guess a marshal gets to determine if the evidence is good or not. Things aren¡¯t so straightforward back in my world. They¡¯re a lot more complicated, and the legal system is spread through a lot more people, but I¡¯m not sure that complicated is always better.¡± Ward frowned. ¡°Eh, things seem good in this case because it¡¯s working in our favor, but if Aldiss were corrupt? I think that¡¯s a lot of power in one person¡¯s hands.¡± ¡°He has to make his report to Primus. I¡¯m sure people are overlooking his cases. Even if he arrests Sonder, he¡¯ll have to take him before a magistrate.¡± Haley sighed and leaned back, resting her elbows in the grass. ¡°I guess I could go home and challenge him to a duel. That would take out any guesswork.¡± ¡°You don¡¯t want to do that.¡± The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°Oh? Don¡¯t I?¡± Haley narrowed her eyes at him, and Ward felt like he was on shaky ground. ¡°Maybe ¡®want¡¯ is the wrong word. I suppose it would feel good to beat the life out of that bastard for what he did. After that, whenever you think of your parents, that¡¯ll lead to the thoughts of Sonder and how he had them killed. That, of course, will lead to memories of you killing your cousin in vengeance. At first, that¡¯ll feel good, but later, when you¡¯re lying down at night trying to sleep, and that unquiet corner of your mind starts digging for things to mull over, you¡¯re going to remember Sonder as a kid. You¡¯ll remember how you played and celebrated holidays together, and then you¡¯ll remember how you killed him. It¡¯s not worth it¡ªkilling family. Let someone like Aldiss bring him justice.¡± ¡°Gods, Ward.¡± Haley¡¯s voice was small and quiet. ¡°Did you kill a family member?¡± ¡°Me? No, but in my old line of work, I spoke to a lot of people who did awful things. I spoke to some truly haunted souls.¡± Haley fully reclined, folding her arms behind her head. ¡°I don¡¯t want to be a haunted soul.¡± ¡°Good, ¡®cause I don¡¯t want that for you, either.¡± Ward stood up with a grunt. ¡°I¡¯m going over to those graves for a minute. Gonna try to gather some mana, then I¡¯ll memorize my spells again. After that, what do you say we sit around the fire for a while?¡± ¡°Okay. Pick me up when you''re done. I¡¯ll be right here.¡± Ward made an affirmative sound and then meandered over to the graves. He spent a good twenty minutes trying to coax as much mana as possible out of the little clouds lingering over the dead mercenaries, but the influx wasn¡¯t exactly massive¡ªhe figured a few dozen motes sank into his hand and coursed into his body. It was clear that he¡¯d have to spend a lot of time¡ªyears¡ªwith slow, steady, gradual growth of his mana potential, or he¡¯d need another treasure like the refinement elixir he¡¯d consumed in the catacombs. As much as the thought still gave him an involuntary shudder, he was starting to think he and Haley would, indeed, have to seek out more challenges; now that he¡¯d tasted magic and seen what it could do, he wasn¡¯t going to be content with the two spells he had¡ªnot to mention his need to keep walking ¡°the Road,¡± in order to learn more about his missing anima. A soft footfall alerted him to Grace¡¯s presence before she spoke. ¡°You should see what changed.¡± He grunted in the affirmative. ¡°I¡¯ll look at it before I sleep.¡± Ward tuned her out, trying to forget she was there, and then forced himself to focus on the forms of his two spells, working through the meditations, building the words in his mind again. It felt like the whole process took less time than before, and he figured it had a lot to do with him finding his center faster, listening to his heartbeat almost effortlessly, and snapping his arms and legs into the different meditative positions more perfectly. All in all, he and Haley were only gone from the fire for an hour or so. Still, when they sat back down, leaning close to the warmth of the fire, they only found Aldiss and Gail sitting there. The others had all retired for the night, though Ward was pretty sure he heard soft grunts and sighs coming from the wagon where Desra and Rollo were ¡°sleeping.¡± Haley grabbed another bottle of cider, took a long drink, then handed it to Ward. ¡°I don¡¯t want more; I¡¯ll feel sick in the morning.¡± Ward nodded and took a drink. He was starting to love the stuff¡ªtart, spicy, and strong enough to bring a flush to his cheeks. ¡°Ward?¡± Gail leaned toward him as he tucked the half-empty bottle between his knees. ¡°Yeah?¡± ¡°That spell was incredible. Aldiss and I have been talking about it while you were gone. Can you imagine how helpful that would be to a marshal or a magistrate? Have you ever thought of taking up the badge?¡± ¡°Bah! She beat me to it! I was going to say I¡¯d write you an introductory letter to the Assembly. Should help you get a foot through the door at the Citadel.¡± Aldiss slurred a little in his enthusiasm, and when he leaned back against his pack, he burped and wiped his mouth with a chuckle. Ward sighed and smiled ruefully, shaking his head. ¡°I¡¯ve done my fair share of hunting criminals, and, to be honest, I was looking forward to a break from all that. I¡¯m curious, though¡ªwhat¡¯s the Citadel?¡± ¡°He¡¯s talking about the Citadel of Measure,¡± Haley said. ¡°It¡¯s a mythical place on Primus where marshals and magistrates are trained.¡± ¡°Hah!¡± Aldiss slapped his knee, his voice wheezing as he took a deep breath, then confidently rebutted Haley. ¡°It ain¡¯t a myth, sweetie. I went there, didn¡¯t I? And training is the small part, the big part is the testing. Anyway, Ward, I can respect your words. I¡¯ll write an introduction for you anyway. I¡¯ll do it in my book, and it¡¯ll go into the master record. If you ever change your mind, tell the clerk at the Citadel to look for it.¡± ¡°Well, thanks, Marshal.¡± Ward smiled and took another swig of cider. After that, they chatted about the road ahead, the weather, and the business Gail and her companions were in¡ªspices and herbal remedies. ¡°Well, I can attest to the quality of your mixtures!¡± Aldiss laughed after they¡¯d gotten the rundown on the sorts of things Desra concocted for the business. ¡°I was sure I was done for with that wound to my lung.¡± Ward frowned at the comment, remembering how the healing potion he¡¯d gotten in the catacombs had repaired some massive hemorrhaging and, doubtless, internal injuries¡ªwounds he¡¯d taken when he used Nevkin¡¯s spell before his body could handle it. Apparently, that kind of healing wasn¡¯t easy to come by on Cinder. They sat quietly for a little while, everyone mulling over their thoughts, enjoying the fire, and then Gail stood up and slapped her hands on her thighs, brushing off some dust. She looked around the fire for a while, her gaze lingering on Haley, then Ward, then back again, before she said, ¡°I¡¯m off to bed.¡± She gave Ward a strange look, kind of a cocked eyebrow, and he had a good idea what she was getting at. He smiled at her and very subtly shook his head. She was attractive, and his body was certainly willing, but he wasn¡¯t really in the mood, not after fighting, killing, and burying corpses all afternoon. ¡°Night, Gail,¡± he said. She sighed heavily but shrugged and offered a smile as she turned and made her way over to a tent near the wagon. Haley stretched, yawning. ¡°I¡¯m off, too.¡± Ward nodded. ¡°I¡¯ll join you shortly.¡± She hopped up and walked over to where they¡¯d laid out their saddles and packs, and he could see her spreading out her bed roll. ¡°Listen, Ward,¡± Aldiss said softly, suddenly sounding much more sober. ¡°I¡¯d like to make you a proposition.¡± ¡°Oh?¡± The fire had burned down to embers, so Aldiss¡¯s face was sort of shadowy, highlighted by the orange glow of the coals. The night was quiet, but in the distance, he could hear strange bird calls and, even more distant, a dog barking. ¡°Yeah. I¡¯m on the mend and could surely travel with you some more come the morrow, but I¡¯m feeling stretched mighty thin. I need to get down to Tarnish sooner than later; that Yates fellow needs to be dealt with. You¡¯re already on your way to confront this warlock situation. How about I deputize you and offer you payment for handling him? If I understand you correctly, you mean to put a stop to him anyway, and, well, after what I saw today, I figure you might have what it takes.¡± ¡°Deputize? That¡¯s a thing here?¡± ¡°Sure! I can give you an official warrant; you carry it out, and I¡¯ll reward you. In this case, I¡¯ll pay you in advance, ¡®cause I¡¯m not sure when we¡¯ll meet again. I think I can trust you with that.¡± ¡°You sure you¡¯re feeling okay? You¡¯re not putting on a brave face so you can crawl into a ditch and die in peace, are you?¡± Ward chuckled to show he wasn¡¯t being serious, but Aldiss didn¡¯t exactly laugh with him. ¡°I¡¯m not feeling great; I¡¯ll tell you that much. Desra said I¡¯d have some side effects from the vapors she gave me. I¡¯ll be weak and a little light-headed for a while, maybe as much as a month.¡± ¡°Shit, really?¡± Aldiss cleared his throat and spat on the coals. As the spittle sizzled, he spoke gravely, ¡°Yeah. I figure I¡¯ll ride to the crossing with these folks, stay a few days, and then make my way nice and leisurely to Tarnish. If you can handle this other outlaw, that really takes a load off.¡± Ward shrugged. ¡°All right. Fair enough. What kind of bounty you offering?¡± ¡°I could pay you in glories, write you a claim note that any bank would cash out. I have a better idea for you, though.¡± With a grunt, he shifted and pulled his pack around before him. ¡°Came upon this on a fellow I had to put down a few years back. I won¡¯t go into the details, but I¡¯m fairly sure he couldn¡¯t use it any more than I can. I¡¯ve been holding onto it ¡®cause I know it¡¯s valuable. Figured I might try to trade it away the next time I was back on Primus. ¡®Course that doesn¡¯t happen too often, and, well, meeting you like this, asking you for help¡ªit just feels kinda right to offer it up to you.¡± He continued rifling through the pack, dragging out the suspense. Ward wanted to ask him what ¡°it¡± was, but he could tell the older man was trying to get him to do so, and he didn¡¯t want to bite. He forced himself to relax, leaning back and sipping the dregs of his cider. ¡°Yeah?¡± ¡°Ah! Here it is!¡± The marshal pulled a small book out of his pack, bound in leather and packed with dense pages. He thumbed through the pages, fanning them out and stopping near the middle, where he pulled out a folded sheet of much darker, yellowed paper. He held the folded page between his thumb and forefinger. ¡°Pretty sure this is a spell. The handwritten part makes that clear, but the words and symbols¡ªI can¡¯t puzzle ¡®em out. They confound my eyes, making me dizzy and queasy if I stare at ¡®em too long.¡± ¡°Oh?¡± Ward¡¯s interest was more than piqued; he leaned forward, eagerly holding out his hand. ¡°Wait a moment, Ward. I¡¯m going to put it in my book that I¡¯ve handed off this warlock situation to you. You agree?¡± Ward didn¡¯t hesitate; he was going after Nevkin anyway. Even so, that wasn¡¯t what made him agree¡ªhe could feel his heart racing at the prospect of reading that page Aldiss held in his hand. ¡°Yeah, I agree.¡± ¡°Good!¡± Aldiss smiled, and it looked sinister in the orange light of the coals. Still, he flicked the folded page over the fire pit. Ward snatched it out of the air and immediately started unfolding it. He saw the harsh, angular script outlining forms, just like his other spells, and beneath them were sharp, dark lines that formed a phrase using words of power. Ward was sure of it because when he tried to read them, his mind ached like someone was squeezing it in their fist. As he stared, his heartbeat making his eyes jostle in their sockets, they began to come into focus. Despite the pain forming in the center of his brow, Ward whispered the words, getting a feel for them on his tongue, ¡°Bryve, Spirvak, Dhravek, Prakhun, Dhravek, Vrothun.¡± Blood dripped onto his hand, and he coughed, shaking his head to clear it. He spat a gob of bloody saliva into the coals and chuckled. ¡°Damn, this is a harsh one! Just reading the words burst some vessels. Gonna take some getting used to.¡± Ward pinched his nose between his thumb and forefinger. ¡°Oof. Never read so many of the words at once.¡± Aldiss shook his head. ¡°Better than I could do. Twisted my eyes every which way but never made any sense of those letters. Stuff¡¯s beyond me, I suppose.¡± ¡°You idiot,¡± Grace hissed in Ward¡¯s ear, leaning very close behind him, obviously trying to avoid the marshal¡¯s direct gaze. ¡°Read what it does before you give yourself an aneurism.¡± Ward sighed and unfolded the page further, revealing a paragraph of tightly spaced cursive, clearly written by a different hand. He sniffed, wiping his bloody nose, and, by the light of the stars and the soft glow of the coals, read about the spell. 53. Applegrass 53 - Applegrass As he read the tightly packed cursive, Ward felt his eyes drawn back up to the strange words of power. They hurt his head, and he knew they were dangerous, but it was like having someone tell you not to think of your favorite food or your high-school crush¡ªjust the suggestion was enough to make your mind go there, and it was the same way with the words; his mind wanted to see them, despite his better judgment. He cursed softly and squeezed his eyes shut. Then he folded the paper backward so the top half with all the magic words was out of sight. With that accomplished, he finally found himself able to focus on the other writing:
Ware, ye who dare tread upon the perilous path outlined herein! Let all who fancy themselves adept in the arcane arts heed this dire warning: these words shall unmake your very sanity should you not be fortified in mind and spirit! Mark well the intricate meditative forms I have painstakingly scribed. Mark, too, the profound weight of the words themselves: Bryve¡ªthe most potent utterance, the essence of Life itself, fraught with peril. Spirvak¡ªthe ethereal substance of spirit, a shadowy siren call to the soul. Dhravek¡ªthe antithesis of Bryve, a fleeting glimpse through death¡¯s veiled portal. Prakhun¡ªa supplication to the dread powers beyond that stygian gate, a perilous call to forces unknown. Vrothun¡ªthe invocation of the cold and lifeless vessel you seek to animate. Together, when empowered by the intention of the precise forms I have detailed, these five words can pierce the veil of mortality. The magic born of such words will reach beyond the boundary of death to draw forth a spirit, imbuing its broken or decayed vessel with a force dragged from the abyss. But heed my words, ye reckless sorcerer! This is no rite of true resurrection, no gentle calling of a loved one back from the beyond! The spirit may return, but the vessel will be infused with a power that dwells in the twilight between life and death¡ªa power neither good nor natural. Should the spirit possess great strength of will, a semblance of life may be eked out, an existence fraught with strife. Harken! If there be any other path, any other hope, take it and abandon this dread art, lest you doom yourself to despair and madness. One final caution: the longer the spirit lingers in the void, the greater the force required to bind it once more to the flesh. And with each passing moment, the more¡­twisted they shall be. - Y
Ward¡¯s eyes widened as he read the peculiar note, strangely unbothered by all the warnings, though his mind raced with the implications. Could it be real? Was this just a piece of fiction meant to scare a person? A note to chase off fledgling sorcerers who might stumble upon the spell? Looking up, he realized he was sitting alone by the fire, only Grace keeping him company. She was frowning pensively, flicking pebbles into the fire. Ward wanted to talk to her, but he knew the people in the wagon and nearby tents would hear him, so he folded the paper and put it into his pocket, then stood and quietly padded away toward the road. When he was a reasonable distance from the camp, he softly said, ¡°Sounds like a dangerous, unpleasant spell, even if I could cast it.¡± ¡°You can¡¯t.¡± Grace took his arm and leaned into him, somehow making him feel warm in the cool night air despite not being real. ¡°You couldn¡¯t even read the whole spell without bleeding out of every orifice.¡± ¡°Well, I¡¯m improving. Give it time.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t think you should use it, anyway. I mean, even if you could. The person who wrote that page was insane. You want to lose your marbles, old man?¡± Ward was used to Grace giving him advice, but he wasn¡¯t used to her being cautious or comforting. He narrowed his eyes at her in suspicion. ¡°You don¡¯t really believe all that stuff, do you? Bringing a dead body back to life? What am I? Frankenstein?¡± She snorted, stuffing her delicate hands into her tailored pockets and stepping away from him. ¡°After everything you¡¯ve seen, you don¡¯t think something like that could be possible? Magic is real, Ward.¡± She gestured back to the fire. ¡°You just summoned ghostly echoes of an event that happened days ago and probably a hundred miles from here. I don¡¯t think reanimating a body is impossible, no.¡± ¡°I dunno. That note read like a bad horror fiction. I wonder if the person who wrote it is even the same person who wrote the words of power and the forms; it seems like a different handwriting.¡± ¡°So, you¡¯re an expert now?¡± She sighed and kicked at a loose stone, sending it rolling down the dirt road. ¡°Anyway, I think you should steer clear of that spell. I mean, you have to for now; it¡¯s obviously too powerful for you, but I wouldn¡¯t mess with it anyway.¡± ¡°Okay, Grace, first of all, I agree, it¡¯s too dangerous to mess with. I won¡¯t go dig up one of those corpses out in the field to try it out, okay? Still, it¡¯s a spell, and¡ªShit, Grace! You don¡¯t know what it feels like to do magic. It¡¯s¡­¡± Ward struggled to find the words, but Grace put a hand on his chest, resting her palm over his heart. It was a strangely gentle thing to do, and when he looked down into her eyes, he saw the flames behind her irises were nearly gone¡ªjust tiny flickering embers lingered. ¡°I know. I know it¡¯s incredible, and I¡¯m glad you¡¯re excited by it, but I think you should just burn that spell before it gets you into trouble someday.¡± He stared at her for a long minute, her gentle touch and almost sweet expression making it very hard to remember the towering, demonic figure who¡¯d threatened him back before he set foot into the catacombs. Still, he did remember, and he remembered her lies about anima, too. Ward took her hand and pulled it off his chest, shaking his head. ¡°Nah. I won¡¯t burn it. It¡¯s valuable, and there are five new words on it. I won¡¯t throw that away. Knowledge is power, Grace, and we need all we can get if I¡¯m going to figure out how to undo what you did to me.¡± She shook her head and sighed heavily, and then she was gone, back to wherever she went when Ward couldn¡¯t see her. Ward quietly walked over to his bedroll and dug his hemograph out of his pack. He sat down, listening to Haley¡¯s soft breathing, and, by the light of the stars, stuck his finger into the hole so the device could sample his blood. The glass flickered with light, the gears inside whirred, and Ward watched as his readings appeared in the green, glowing aetherflux:
Previous reading detected ¨C Previous readings displayed in Brackets
Bloodline: Awakened Human Aetherborn Traces Lycan Traces [Unknown] Traces
Accumulated Mana: 134 [92]
Mana Distribution: Natural No allocation enchantments detected.
Mana Well: Tier 3 33 % [31%] to next tier Enhanced regeneration - minor
Mana Sensitivity: Tier 4 Bloodline Dependent
Mana Pathways: Tier 2 Bloodline Dependent
Vessel Capacity: Tier 2 Bloodline Dependent
Vessel Durability: Tier 2 56% [52%] to next tier Enhanced healing rate ¨C minor Enhanced bone density ¨C minor
Vessel Strength: Tier 2 Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. 44% [39%] to next tier
Vessel Speed: Tier 2 39% [36%] to next tier
Longevity remaining: 65% Tier 2 Depletion Rate ¨C (Approximate)
Anima Heart: Tier 1 Closed Pathways Detected
Anima: Nil
The progress was small, but it wasn¡¯t insignificant, he supposed. Still, Ward wanted to get his hands on another refinement elixir if he could. Looking at the report, he wondered about the ¡°mana distribution¡± reading. Was there a way to direct his accumulated mana to a specific area? Could he focus on something like enhancing his mana well or his strength? The questions were interesting, but they only reminded him how much he had to learn. With no answers jumping out at him, he put the hemograph away. That night, Ward slept like the dead. He was warm in his blankets, and the grass underneath was soft enough to sink into. Of course, when he woke, a thin layer of dew was everywhere, but it didn¡¯t bother him much in his woolen travel clothes. The marshal ate breakfast with them, then shook Ward¡¯s hand and gave Haley a fatherly hug, wishing them well. He admonished Ward to report the results of their hunt for Nevkin at the mayor¡¯s office in Applegrass. As they parted, Haley took the marshal¡¯s hand and looked him in the eyes. ¡°Marshal Aldiss, I¡¯m trusting you to bring my cousin to justice.¡± ¡°I won¡¯t let you down. Your parents¡¯ holdings will be safe and sound, awaiting your return.¡± He smiled, his rough, stubbled cheeks bunching up under his eyes, then tipped his hat and walked over to the other travelers¡¯ wagon. Once Ward and Haley had their horses saddled and mounted up, Gail, Desra, and Rollo waved them off. Tarn didn¡¯t make an appearance, but Ward had seen his booted feet sticking out of a tent and knew the man was still sleeping off the cider. He couldn¡¯t help noticing how Gail¡¯s eyes smoldered as they lingered on him, and he wanted to kick himself for not taking her up on her invitation the previous night. With a heavy, meaningful sigh, he shrugged, smiled at her one last time, and then he and Haley rode away. Once they were clear of the orchard, they picked up the pace, urging the horses into a trot to get their day of travel started. They slowed sometime in the mid-morning, and while the horses walked to recover their wind, Haley asked, ¡°Are you going to do it?¡± ¡°Do what?¡± Ward was fidgeting with his ¡°grimoire,¡± trying to balance it on his lap while he inserted his new page. ¡°Take the marshal up on his offer. I mean, seek entry to the citadel.¡± ¡°Oh, I don¡¯t think so, Haley. I had enough of trying to enforce laws in my old life. It¡¯s not so easy when you don¡¯t believe they¡¯re all just. I guess I got lucky¡ªhired by the Port Authority and getting on with CID. It was a lot easier to hunt for those kinds of criminals than enforce some bullshit traffic law.¡± ¡°I won¡¯t pretend to know what you¡¯re talking about, but I think I get the general idea. You wouldn¡¯t want to enforce petty laws.¡± ¡°Exactly.¡± ¡°Well, it doesn¡¯t seem like Aldiss does much of that. I can¡¯t say I haven¡¯t read many romantic stories about the life of a regional marshal.¡± Ward smiled and closed up his book, looking at the young woman. He pursed his lips in thought, then slowly nodded. ¡°You know, you make a good point. Seems like Aldiss has more the life of an Old West lawman than anything I used to do. He travels from town to town, helping folks with trouble too big for the locals to handle. Yeah, I can see the romance in that.¡± ¡°I could be your assistant marshal,¡± Haley laughed. ¡°We¡¯d clean out criminal gangs, track down murderers, and do all sorts of fun stuff. The locals would fall in love with us and beg us to stay, but we¡¯d always have to leave town¡ªoff to help the next town over.¡± ¡°Hey! Those plotlines sound very familiar to some movies and books I read when I was younger.¡± He chuckled. ¡°I guess it¡¯s a pretty universal concept.¡± ¡°What concept is that?¡± Grace asked, coming out of Ward¡¯s head to join the conversation. She clung loosely to his sides, riding close behind him. Ward wanted to shrug her off but fought the urge down¡ªwhy pick fights? ¡°Romance, I mean. The allure of adventure, justice, and the rugged individualism of a man or woman,¡± Ward winked at Haley, ¡°apart from society¡ªwelcomed and appreciated, but never fully embraced.¡± ¡°Exactly!¡± Haley laughed. ¡°I read so many stories like that when I was little. Marshal Silver was one of my favorites.¡± Ward found his smile growing and glanced over his shoulder to see Grace grinning, too, the fire in her eyes very dim as she pondered some far-away ideas. He looked back at Haley. ¡°Tell you what, I won¡¯t write off the idea of visiting that citadel someday. If we¡¯re still partners and you come with me, I¡¯ll make sure we get hired on as a team.¡± He figured there wasn¡¯t any harm in the fantasy. There wasn¡¯t much chance it would ever happen. Haley didn¡¯t respond, but he saw her nodding, her lips curled up while her mind drifted to far-off vistas. To him, that smile made the silly promise worthwhile; she deserved more smiles like that in her life. So, with the two daydreaming women, Ward enjoyed the scenery and the gentle gait of the horses as they made easy travel through one orchard after another on the way to Applegrass. When they arrived, Ward was immediately taken in by the quaint country charm of the place. There were only two main roads through town, the one they came in on that traveled east to west and another that cut through the center going north and south. Of course, the whole settlement wasn¡¯t on those two roads¡ªsome winding lanes meandered to various businesses, residential areas, and farms, but the bulk of the town was situated at the crossroads of those two wide, red-cobbled roads. The nearby orchards gave the air a fresh scent, and the late fall air was crisp and tinged with the smoke of fires in hearths. People were out and about, but they looked guarded. They stood close together and cast long, searching looks at Ward and Haley as they passed. Ward immediately noted the lack of any sort of town watch. They rode into the village unchallenged, and though there had to be a hundred people within view, hurrying to and fro, some walking, some mounted, and others driving wagons, none looked like any sort of authority. ¡°Should we find the mayor¡¯s office?¡± Haley asked, frowning at the obvious wide berths people gave them. ¡°I guess. If Nevkin¡¯s going around killing off the nobility, does that mean he¡¯s running the town?¡± Haley shook her head. ¡°Not exactly. In most counties like this, the landholders, or ¡®noble class,¡¯ operate on a council. That council has a lot of voting power when it comes to selecting mayors or other legal representatives. So, unless he¡¯s killed the mayor, he¡¯ll have to use his new sway to influence the next election to effect some control.¡± ¡°Right. Let¡¯s find the mayor¡¯s office.¡± Ward clicked his tongue, and Nutmeg started walking again. Their search didn¡¯t take long¡ªa hanging placard on the main street near the intersection that read ¡°Welcome to Applegrass¡± caught Haley¡¯s eye, and she pointed. When they rode close, they saw a quaint, two-story house with a red, gabled roof and a placard on the front door: MAYOR. Ward hopped down and looped Nutmeg¡¯s lead around the fencepost, and when he looked up, he saw Haley had done the same. Ward gestured to the mounts. ¡°You think the horses will be all right if we both go in?¡± She frowned. ¡°Normally, I¡¯d say yes, but these people are acting strange. I¡¯d hate to lose either of them¡­¡± ¡°You can wait with them. I¡¯ll go talk to the mayor.¡± Ward looked up and down the street, noting that people were crossing the street to avoid coming close to them. ¡°Just holler if anyone bothers you.¡± ¡°I will. You better tell me everything you find out, though.¡± She hopped up on the fence, facing the street, as she polished an apple on her shirt. Ward smiled. ¡°Promise.¡± He straightened his jacket and ensured his knife was secure in its sheath, wishing he¡¯d taken the time to re-memorize his spells and enchant the blade. ¡°Before we go after Nevkin,¡± he muttered, promising himself not to rush headlong into anything dicey. The path up to the mayor¡¯s door was lined with little green potted shrubs, and he had a feeling that if it weren¡¯t Fall, they¡¯d be blooming with flowers. When he stepped up to the door and lifted his knuckles to knock, a small, middle-aged man with curly red hair pulled it open and smiled at him, smoothing down the lapels of a soft, gray vest. ¡°Welcome, welcome. Come in!¡± He backed up, gesturing for Ward to step through. Ward took his hat off, holding it before him as he cleared his throat. ¡°Erm, hello there. Is the mayor in?¡± ¡°That¡¯s me! Mayor Farview at your service!¡± He pointed to a sitting area to the left of the door. ¡°Won¡¯t you come in and have a seat? It¡¯s lovely to see a traveler in town; we haven¡¯t had much traffic since the big caravan pulled out with the Fall harvest.¡± Ward nodded, looking around the foyer, noting the dust on the dark, wooden furniture, the blown leaves in the corners where gusts had sent them through as the door was opened and closed; it didn¡¯t look to him like the mayor was used to cleaning up after himself. He stepped through an archway into the sitting area and slowly lowered himself into a small, padded armchair. ¡°My name¡¯s Ward, Mayor, and I¡¯m here on some important business.¡± ¡°Oh? I don¡¯t suppose you¡¯re the man Dav Thornlane sent for, are you?¡± ¡°Thornlane?¡± Ward shook his head. ¡°Never heard of him.¡± ¡°Ah, pity. He¡¯s been holed up in his mansion for a week now, afraid to show his face ¡®round town lest he get called out.¡± The mayor sat across from Ward, folding his small hands in his lap. ¡°I¡¯d offer you a snack or something fresh to drink, but my girl, Yami, has gone home to see to her family. Her father met with an unfortunate end recently.¡± He shook his head, looking down at the floor, then brightened, smiling at Ward, exposing teeth that looked tobacco-stained. ¡°I was about to head down to the tavern for a bite and a drink.¡± Ward nodded, frowning. He wondered if the mayor meant his wife by ¡°my girl¡± or if he was just being a bit sexist, referring to a housekeeper or cook. ¡°Listen, I¡¯m looking for a man. He has a bald head with blue tattoos, and he¡¯s going around calling himself a warlock¡­¡± Ward trailed off as the mayor¡¯s eyes widened and he started to stand. His face had drained of color, and his hands had begun to shake. ¡°I¡¯m, oh, goodness! I¡¯m, uh¡­¡± he stammered, turning in a circle, looking around the room as though he might see an escape hatch. ¡°I¡¯m sorry if I sounded flippant earlier! I certainly didn¡¯t mean any offense by any of my words. I¡¯m sure Lord Nevkin¡¯s friends have more important things to do than listen to me prattle on¡ª¡± ¡°Mayor!¡± Ward held up his hands. ¡°Sit down, please. You didn¡¯t say anything to worry about, and I¡¯m not that little shithead¡¯s friend.¡± Those words brought a stunned silence to the mayor, and he sat down, clamping his mouth shut with an audible click. ¡°How can you¡­¡± He shook his head, swallowing with a gulp. ¡°Please, I don¡¯t want to be struck down for speaking ill of Lord Nevkin.¡± Ward narrowed his eyes, incredulous. ¡°Struck down? You think he can hear what we¡¯re saying in here?¡± He stood and turned in a slow circle. ¡°That would certainly make things easier.¡± Ward cleared his throat. ¡°Nevkin! If you can hear me, you little thieving bastard, I¡¯m right here in the mayor¡¯s house. Come on down, and let¡¯s settle our business. Or, if you¡¯re so powerful now, then strike me down where I stand!¡± Ward held his hands out to his sides, palms out. ¡°Well? Come on, you shitbird!¡± When nothing happened, he sat down and looked at the mayor. ¡°If he said he could hear you in your house, he was lying.¡± For the first time, the mayor really looked Ward in the eyes, and a slow smile crept onto his face as he began to nod. ¡°Oh, thank the old gods! You¡¯re here for him, then? He stole from you?¡± ¡°That¡¯s right. You know where I can find him?¡± The mayor nodded eagerly. ¡°He¡¯s either at the Graymane estate or off tormenting Thornlane, trying to get him to duel.¡± ¡°All right, let¡¯s start at the beginning. When did he get here? How many people has he killed? How¡¯s he doing it?¡± ¡°Yes. All right, yes. I can do that. My throat¡¯s dry, though; mind if I get some whiskey for us to sip while I tell the story?¡± Ward nodded his approval, and the mayor hopped to his feet and scurried down a short hallway. While waiting for him, Ward looked out the front window and saw Haley sitting on the fence, gently stroking Wind Queen¡¯s nose. He wondered where Grace was¡ªhopefully, just sitting in his head, taking it all in. The mayor returned with a crystal bottle of dark liquor and poured two glasses, handing one to Ward. ¡°To answer your question, he''s killed seven people from Applegrass¡ªthree of the biggest landholders in the county and four of their men. He¡¯s been trying to challenge Thornlane for a week now, but the old codger keeps giving him the slip; the word is he¡¯s sent off for a champion out of Port Granite.¡± ¡°Okay, tell me about him. What¡¯s he doing to kill these folks? Have you witnessed any of the duels?¡± The mayor downed a glass of the liquor, poured himself a new one, then licked his lips and nodded. ¡°Aye. Aye, I have. I think the easiest way to explain it is to tell you about the day he came into town. It was the damnedest thing the way he rode in, his horse lathered with sweat, half-dead from lack of water and exhaustion, and him all light and breezy, like he hadn¡¯t a care in the world as he strode into the tavern¡­¡± 54. An Interview The mayor¡¯s tale about Nevkin unfolded in bits and pieces at first, but by the time he got to the meat of the story, his words flowed like a punctured radiator hose. ¡°So, I was there, in the tavern, eating some fresh biscuits and gravy, when I heard a horse pounding over the cobbles. Now, we don¡¯t have any sort of town watch here in Applegrass; folks are generally pretty mindful of one another, and if someone comes through that causes a problem, we put together a volunteer militia to take on the threat. All that¡¯s to say, decent folk know better than to gallop through the crossroads! There¡¯re kids playing and folks crossing to go to one shop or t¡¯other.¡± Ward held up a hand to get a word in, and when the mayor paused, he asked, ¡°And when was this?¡± ¡°Just about two weeks ago. I know that ¡®cause Yami had just put together a naming party for young Joni¡¯s firstborn, and I had agreed to let her use my office, seeing as it¡¯s right here in town¡ª" Ward nodded and, afraid the story was about to take a significant detour, interjected, ¡°That¡¯s fine, mayor; let¡¯s get back to when Nevkin came into town.¡± The mayor nodded, frowning and licking his lips nervously as he continued, ¡°So, when I heard that gallop, I hopped up and peered out the window. That¡¯s when I first saw him. A lanky fellow in tattered, ratty robes, decked in raven¡¯s feathers and filthy from the road. Those robes were stained with something, but being black, it was hard to say what. He swung off the horse, looped his reins on the fence post, and strolled up the steps to the tavern without a second glance at the bedraggled, heaving animal. Well, I stood tall and waited for him to come in, intent on telling him off for riding that way into town.¡± ¡°How¡¯d that go?¡± ¡°Not well! He came through the door, slamming it wide, and stomped into the tavern, glaring around like he was looking for someone. Now, this fellow was quite strange up close, and he smelled like a five-day-old rabbit carcass. I took a few steps back when I caught that odor, and he glared at me with the most daunting, peculiar eyes I¡¯ve ever seen! They were wide, with far too much of the bloodshot whites showing. He had a mad look about him, what with his sweaty, dust-covered scalp and the strange tattoos all over it. He practically leered at me, and his voice was deep and strong when he spoke, sending shivers down my spine.¡± Ward nodded. ¡°What did he say?¡± ¡°He said, ¡®I¡¯m Nevkin, Lord of these lands, and there are two men I need to see.¡¯ ¡®Course, I didn¡¯t know it then, but he was looking for the two landholders he hadn¡¯t yet killed! You see, on his way into town, he stopped by the Graymane estate and killed old Ford Graymane, last of his name, claiming his holdings. He also went over to Val Russet¡¯s farm and killed him¡ªright in front of his wife and son! That¡¯s where my Yami went; Val was her father.¡± Ward nodded, putting the pieces together. The ¡°girl¡± was one of the local ¡°nobility¡± and had been working in the mayor¡¯s office. ¡°So what happened next?¡± ¡°Right. He said he was looking for Bors Goffet and Dav Thornlane. Bors and two of his men happened to be in the tavern, and he stood up, throwing his chair back¡ªBors was always up for a brawl, ¡®specially when he had a couple of men to watch his back. He hollered at the stranger, something like, ¡®What are you doing coming in here spitting my name like a curse, stranger?¡¯ Well, Lord Nevkin¡ª¡± ¡°He¡¯s just Nevkin.¡± Ward had had enough of Nevkin, and he hadn¡¯t even spoken to him yet. ¡°Um, well, Nevkin turned toward Bors and his men and grinned, licking his teeth with his tongue. That¡¯s when I first noticed something strange about it; it caught the light and glinted like polished silver. He licked his teeth, slow and deliberate, then he reached into his robes and took out a small orb that glowed with the most mystifying blue light I¡¯ve ever seen. He shouted some curses and made some demands, but when Bors and his men reached for weapons, rather than falling to their knees, he held that orb up with one hand, pointed his other at Bors and the two men, and¡ª¡± The mayor bent his head and cradled it between his hands, and Ward thought he heard him sob. ¡°What? What did he do?¡± ¡°He said some words that cut me on the insides¡ªthey made my ears bleed, and I swear I tasted copper for an hour after that. Anyway, that¡¯s what happened to me just for hearing ¡®em. What happened to Bors and his men was worse.¡± He paused and looked up, blinking rapidly and wiping his nose. When he saw Ward¡¯s stern gaze still focused on him, he nodded and continued, ¡°My vision went blurry when those words were echoing around the place, but when I refocused, I saw Bors, cut in half at the waist, the table behind him and his two men, too. One of those poor sods was hit by just part of that foul magic and lost his leg at the knee. He screamed¡ªoh gods, he screamed! The whole while, blood was spurting out, pooling with the other two dead. It was the ghastliest, grisliest thing I ever saw!¡± ¡°He cut ¡®em in half? With the spell?¡± ¡°Aye! And when Mrs. Beth ran over with a healing tonic for Bors¡¯s man, Lord¡ªahem, er, Nevkin chased her off. Said he¡¯d do her in, too, if she tried to help again. So, the rest of us watched while Wayne bled out and died there with his friend and his boss. The whole while, that man, Nevkin¡ªhe spat blood and gargled some strange concoction, looking around with mad, wild, bloodshot eyes.¡± ¡°The spell made him bleed?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know if it was the spell, sir, but he was certainly spitting blood, and I saw many a lesion on his arms and scalp.¡± ¡°Mmhmm.¡± Ward nodded, rubbing his stubble-covered chin. It sounded like Nevkin could cast a damned dangerous spell but also that it might be doing him some significant harm. ¡°What did he do then?¡± ¡°He demanded directions to Dav Thornlane¡¯s estate¡ªthreatened to kill us all if we didn¡¯t give ¡®em to him quick. Then, on his way out, he declared, again, that he was the rightful lord of these lands now and that we¡¯d all better get used to the idea. We watched him mount that poor, half-dead horse and whip him bloody to get him moving through the crossing and up north toward Dav¡¯s place. The crafty old codger¡¯s been hiding, though, keeping Nevkin hunting for him these past few days. Like I said, rumor is, he¡¯s laying low, waiting on a champion from Port Granite to come and fight in his place.¡± This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. ¡°Doesn¡¯t really seem like much of a fight took place in that tavern. Did Nevkin call the guy he killed out? Did he declare the challenge, I mean?¡± ¡°Oh, aye, I s¡¯pose I left out a few details. When he declared himself lord of these lands upon entering the tavern, and Bors stood up like the fine man he was, Nevkin said some words about getting on his knees or dying¡­¡± The mayor trailed off, shaking his head and making a tsk sound. ¡°So, you reckon he¡¯s where again?¡± ¡°Maybe at the Graymane estate. Word spread from the help¡ªmost have since quit¡ªthat he moved in after killing old Ford.¡± The mayor frowned and shrugged. ¡°He might be up at Dav¡¯s place, trying to sus him out.¡± Ward gestured to the mayor¡¯s desk. ¡°Think you could draw me a rough map of the area?¡± ¡°My pleasure!¡± The mayor downed his liquor, and Ward took his first sip; it was harsh, throat-burning whiskey. He nodded in faux appreciation, then followed the mayor over to his desk, where the little, red-haired man rustled through the drawers looking for paper and a stick of something like charcoal. As he began to scrawl out a rough map of the town and the surrounding area, Ward walked over to the window and checked on Haley. She still sat atop the little fence, warily turning her head left and right at the people moving about¡ªevery one of them on the other side of the street. ¡°Here you go, sir!¡± Ward turned to see the Mayor approaching with the map. He took it, noted the crude talent, but bit his tongue when he thought of making a cutting remark; the Mayor had been through enough. ¡°This is the crossroad?¡± When the mayor nodded, Ward traced his finger to the north, where some fields were depicted with wavy lines. ¡°What¡¯s this dotted line?¡± ¡°That¡¯s the path leading up Gallow¡¯s Hill. Dav Thornlake¡¯s estate is up there past the old hanging tree.¡± Ward scratched his jaw, silently vowing to shave soon. ¡°And back here, to the, uh, west? This dotted line through the¡ªAre these trees?¡± ¡°Aye, Whisperbrook Grove. The path leads through it, and on the other side, you¡¯ll find Graymane¡¯s estate; that¡¯s where people say Lor¡ªer, Nevkin, is holed up.¡± He cleared his throat and stepped back, clasping his hands in front of himself. ¡°Excuse me, sir, but you don¡¯t mind if I lay low, do you? Also, I¡¯d rather no one knew I made that map for you¡­¡± ¡°Say no more, mayor. Don¡¯t mention to anyone that I¡¯m looking for Nevkin, yeah? I¡¯d rather not give him a heads-up. Where¡¯s the inn, by the way?¡± ¡°Absolutely! If anyone asks what you were doing in my office, I¡¯ll say you were inquiring about the old Harwell orchard; it¡¯s been vacant for seven years, and the town reclaimed the land to sell last spring. As for the inn, just continue to the crossroads and turn right. It¡¯s the biggest building on the left side of the street.¡± The mayor stepped toward the door, reaching for the handle, and Ward realized he was being ushered out. As the mayor pulled the door wide, Ward put a hand on his shoulder and waited until he looked him in the eyes. ¡°I wasn¡¯t joking, Mayor. If Nevkin gets word that I¡¯m on my way to deal with him, I¡¯ll know who talked.¡± The mayor¡¯s eyes widened, and he shook his head frantically, sending his curly, ginger hair dancing. ¡°I swear! Not a word!¡± Ward nodded, then stepped out, inhaling deeply of the fresh air; he hadn¡¯t realized how stuffy the little office had gotten while he sat listening to the mayor¡¯s tale. Haley turned toward him and arched an eyebrow, watching as the nervous little man pulled the door closed and slid the bolt home with a solid, final click. ¡°That¡¯s not exactly a friendly face you¡¯re wearing.¡± Ward sighed and rubbed Nutmeg¡¯s snout, letting the horse snuffle his palm. ¡°I got the lowdown on why everyone¡¯s acting so freaked out around here.¡± He nodded to the people hurrying down the street, heads down, only sparing them an occasional glance. ¡°I imagine it has something to do with Nevkin killing people.¡± ¡°Yeah, you¡¯d be right¡­¡± Ward told her the mayor¡¯s story while he and Haley continued to give the horses attention, feeding them each an apple and brushing their necks, shoulders, and haunches. The animals fidgeted and nuzzled at their hands. He could tell they wanted their saddles off, but Ward shook his head as he wrapped up the tale, patting Nutmeg on his big muscular shoulder. ¡°Day¡¯s not over yet, buddy.¡± ¡°Should we check in at the inn?¡± Ward shook his head. ¡°I thought about that, but I don¡¯t think so. A man like Nevkin, on a murderous rampage, putting the fear of God into everyone? There¡¯ll be people in town¡ªcowards or weaklings, mostly¡ªwho will want to earn favor with him. The longer we¡¯re hanging around town, showing our faces in busy places like an inn, the greater the chance someone tips him off, and then we¡¯ll be not only dealing with a dangerous man but a dangerous man who¡¯s ready for us.¡± ¡°So? Where do we go? Up to Thornlake¡¯s place or this other one, um¡­¡± Haley peered at the mayor¡¯s crude map. ¡°The one past the woods here, where Nevkin killed the lord and moved in.¡± ¡°Yeah, the Graymane estate. I think that¡¯s where we¡¯ll find him. He¡¯s been looking for Thornlake for two weeks. I doubt he¡¯ll be sitting outside his place at¡±¡ªWard looked up at the sky¡ª¡°noon. Nah, if he¡¯s hunting the guy, he¡¯s probably sneaking around at night. I mean, that¡¯s what I¡¯d do if I wanted to catch someone with their pants down. I¡¯d make sleeping a dangerous proposition.¡± Ward shrugged. ¡°So you think Nevkin is probably resting at his ¡®home¡¯ right now?¡± Haley pulled herself up into Wind Queen¡¯s saddle. Ward followed suit, stuffing his boot into the stirrup and boosting himself into the saddle. ¡°Let¡¯s go find out.¡± As they made their way back the way they¡¯d come, looking for the trail that would lead off the main road toward a grove of something other than apple trees, Grace made an appearance, grasping Ward¡¯s shoulders as she occupied the saddle behind him. She leaned close and hissed, ¡°I hope you don¡¯t intend to give him a fair fight. It sounds like he knows a spell that can probably kill you instantly.¡± Ward shrugged exaggeratedly, trying to get her hands off his shoulders. They were hot, and the pressure felt good on his tense muscles, and he didn¡¯t like feeling that from her. ¡°Haley, let¡¯s stop when we find the path leading off the road. I need to prepare my spell and enchant my weapons.¡± ¡°Good idea.¡± ¡°Also,¡± Ward spoke to Haley but glanced at Grace, frowning, ¡°I wonder if maybe you should hang back. That spell of his sounds dangerous, and, well, I¡¯ve absorbed enough mana where it might not kill me outright. I don¡¯t want to see¡ª¡± ¡°Ward! I¡¯m a red adept in the art of Gopah! I¡¯ll not hide from a tongue-waggling, upstart sorcerer!¡± Haley¡¯s glower contained storm clouds that Ward wasn¡¯t willing to brave, so he shrugged. ¡°It was just a thought. Grace was the one who was worried, anyway, not¡ª¡± Grace flicked his ear, and he slapped his hand against it, effectively cuffing himself. ¡°Ow!¡± Haley giggled, but it was cut short as she pointed toward a small signpost at the corner of the main road and a narrow, gravel lane. ¡°There¡¯s the path!¡± 55. Right and Wrong 55 ¨C Right and Wrong ¡°Let¡¯s rest in that patch of grass.¡± Haley pointed to a small, overgrown field on the edge of a nearby apple orchard. ¡°I see a livestock trough by that old fence.¡± Ward saw what she meant and nodded. As they turned to the side of the road, she added, ¡°I¡¯ll keep a watch while I do my forms, and you can do your magic.¡± ¡°Sounds like a plan.¡± After they rode down the slight berm and the horses clopped onto the hard soil under the tall, yellowing grass, Ward slid out of Nutmeg¡¯s saddle and untied his spear, hefting it down. He glanced over at Haley and nodded toward Wind Queen. ¡°Want me to try it on your sword?¡± ¡°Hmm. I don¡¯t know how to fight with it properly, but if you can enchant it to land a solid blow¡­¡± She slowly began to nod, rubbing her arms where they stood out bare from her leather vest. ¡°Let¡¯s try it! It¡¯s getting cold, don¡¯t you think?¡± Ward tugged on the lapel of his wool coat. ¡°I don¡¯t feel it.¡± Haley stared at his hand, where it clutched the fabric. ¡°Your wound healed up nicely.¡± Ward frowned and held the appendage in front of himself, turning it front to back, flexing his fingers open and closed. The torn, burned flesh was all but gone, and fresh, healthy-looking skin had filled in. He peeled away a tag of dried, dead skin and let it flutter to the ground. ¡°Yeah, that stuff the marshal had was pretty good. I did feel kind of sick at first, though. I much prefer the potion we found in the catacombs.¡± Haley walked Wind Queen over to the trough and peered into it. She called out, ¡°Rainwater, I think! It seems clear enough.¡± Ward grabbed Nutmeg¡¯s reins and walked over. ¡°Would the horses drink if it was bad?¡± ¡°If they were desperate, yes, but these two beauties aren¡¯t that thirsty; they¡¯d turn their noses up if it were foul.¡± Haley stroked Wind Queen as she spoke. ¡°Isn¡¯t that right, my lovely girl?¡± The horse snuffed her hair, and Haley giggled as she got out of the way so the big animal could drink. Nutmeg joined her without Ward¡¯s urging, dipping his muzzle into the water. ¡°All right. Let me prepare this spell.¡± Ward chose a patch of relatively green grass and sat down with his grimoire, flipping it open to the ¡°true strike¡± spell. Ten minutes later, he was watching the words imprint themselves into the metal of his dagger¡ªsharp, jagged, glowing symbols that strummed a primal note in his chest. He looked into his mind, saw the words still ready, and picked his spear up off the grass. Laying it on his lap, he prepared to cast the spell again, but then Haley broke out of her rhythmic movements and jogged toward the road. Ward followed her with his eyes and saw a cart approaching on the main road, heading toward them from out of town. ¡°Nothing to worry about, I think,¡± Haley called. ¡°Looks like a cart with some empty apple baskets stacked in the back.¡± At her words, Ward looked down at his spear and said, ¡°Ghruvon Truvik Prakhun.¡± The words echoed in the air around him, stirring up dust and broken blades of grass, and then they pounded into the wooden haft, carving the same glowing runes as he¡¯d seen in the dagger¡¯s blade. He looked back to Haley and watched her wave at an elderly woman and man as they pulled the wagon to a stop on the side of the road. She called out, ¡°Hello there.¡± The old man¡¯s voice warbled as he replied, ¡°Heya, missy. What you folks doing there on Graymane¡¯s soil? Best beware!¡± ¡°Beware?¡± ¡°There¡¯s a devil living on them lands.¡± He gathered a wad of phlegm and spat it onto the gravel road. ¡°You see how people use that word?¡± Grace asked, suddenly sitting beside Ward. ¡°Is it any wonder I object to the label?¡± ¡°Uh-huh,¡± Ward grunted, too focused on Haley¡¯s conversation to pay her much attention. ¡°Ben, don¡¯t be so crude,¡± the woman admonished, tugging on his sleeve. ¡°Let¡¯s go! This is no place to linger.¡± She spoke a bit louder, looking past the old fellow to Haley. ¡°You hear that, girl? No place to linger!¡± Haley waved. ¡°Thank you! We¡¯ll be moving on soon.¡± As the wagon trundled away, Haley walked back to the patch of grass, and Ward gestured to the horses. ¡°Get me your sword.¡± Looking into his mind, he could still see the words there, a bit dimmer, with less defined edges, but still there. ¡°You can cast it three times?¡± Grace asked, leaning close, peering at the spear where Ward had laid it beside himself. ¡°Gonna find out.¡± When Haley handed him the sword, still in its black leather scabbard, he was surprised by its weight. He tugged the leather-wrapped hilt, and the blade came free of the scabbard with a smooth, faintly metallic ring. It was probably about a yard long and close to three inches from edge to edge. The point was sharp, and the edges looked like he could probably shave with them. What caught Ward¡¯s attention, though, were the runes. Up and down both sides of the sword-blade were dozens of jagged runes etched into the bright metal. They were dark, almost like they¡¯d been cut with something hot that had melted the metal, taking away its mirror finish. He gripped the leather hilt in both hands and lifted it before him, instantly enjoying its heft. ¡°Formidable.¡± ¡°My father always talked about how it was made of an ore you can¡¯t find on Cinder. I wish I¡¯d paid more attention to the story.¡± Ward nodded, frowning in contemplation as he turned the sword in his hands, admiring the gleaming metal. ¡°I thought it was steel.¡± Haley knelt in front of him, sitting on her heels. ¡°Maybe my father was just telling tall tales.¡± ¡°Well, let¡¯s see what happens when I cast this spell on it.¡± Ward laid the sword across his knees and, once again, focused on the spell in his head. ¡°Ghruvon Truvik Prakhun.¡± Haley winced and clapped her hands to her ears as the words sprang out, echoing in the air despite them being in an open field. They seemed to rush around them like a miniature sirocco; then, in a crescendo, they smashed into the sword. This time, they didn¡¯t etch themselves into the metal, at least not anywhere Ward could see, but the runes already stamped or burned into the blade flared with baleful red light. They glowed for several heartbeats and then slowly faded. ¡°Did it work?¡± Haley asked, breathless. ¡°I don¡¯t know. Maybe?¡± Grace sniffed, leaning close to peer at the sword and its once more inert runes. ¡°I think it just triggered the magic that was in the sword. That, or you''re trying to enchant too much at once. You might not be able to do more than two at a time.¡± Ward sighed and clambered to his feet, holding the sword up in the light. ¡°Grace thinks I might be trying to enchant too much. Maybe the spell can¡¯t affect more than a couple of weapons at once. It did something, though¡­¡± Again, Ward turned the blade in the sunlight, trying to see if anything looked different. Haley held out her hand, and Ward gave her the sword. ¡°I¡¯ll tell you this much: I¡¯ve never seen the runes glow like that. Perhaps the sword¡¯s magic won¡¯t allow another enchantment?¡± ¡°Yeah, maybe.¡± He turned to the horses and saw them both grazing peacefully. ¡°If I call Nevkin out and give him a chance to prepare, he might kill me with that spell he used in the tavern. Or, I guess he could use another¡ªI don¡¯t know what he can do. I mean, before I get a chance to react. I feel like the smart thing would be to jump him. You know, take him unawares.¡± As soon as he said the words, Ward felt guilty; hadn¡¯t Haley gotten involved in enough dirty, killing business? ¡°I feel wrong thinking like that, though.¡± The words came out limply¡ªa pathetic attempt to save face. This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there. Haley didn¡¯t speak at first. She turned her chin up and stared at the gray-blue sky and the distant clouds. After a minute, she looked at him with such trusting, hopeful eyes that Ward¡¯s stomach did a little flip. As she spoke, his mind began to race, trying to think of a way to get her out of the situation. ¡°It¡¯s a dilemma. You promised Marshal Aldiss that you would duel Nevkin. Would you be able to report to the mayor that you did so? I mean, if you, instead, murdered him?¡± When Ward scowled, frowning deeply as he scratched the beard growing along his jaw, she must have thought he was upset with her because she hastily added, ¡°I wouldn¡¯t blame you, Ward, and I¡¯d support whatever report you made¡ª¡± ¡°Don¡¯t do that,¡± he grunted, walking over to the horses. She was a little slow to follow, and when he glanced back and saw her crestfallen expression, he stopped. ¡°I mean, don¡¯t compromise your values for me. I should know better than to propose something like that around you ¡®cause you feel like you owe me something. You don¡¯t, though. Anyway, I don¡¯t want to feel dirty about this shit. Nevkin¡¯s the bad guy here. He took my artifact. He abandoned us, and he¡¯s been killing people left and right around here. That¡¯s just here, too! Who¡¯s to say what he got up to between leaving Tarnish and coming to this valley?¡± Haley nodded, slowly coming to join him by the horses. ¡°So?¡± ¡°So, I¡¯ll be damned if that guy¡¯s gonna make me turn into the bad guy. I¡¯ve already pushed the boundaries of that, going around cracking skulls in the middle of the night.¡± Haley¡¯s voice was small as she added, ¡°And helping me bury my victim¡ª¡± ¡°Hey!¡± Ward grabbed her hand, surprised, as always, by how hot they felt. ¡°We¡¯re the good guys here, all right? Come on. Let¡¯s go see if that shitbird wants to come peacefully or if I¡¯m going to have to put him down.¡± With that, Ward mounted Nutmeg, and Haley leaped into Wind Queen¡¯s saddle. Perhaps feeling invigorated from their brief rest or eager to put their business with Nevkin behind them, they took off at a canter down the narrow lane, rushing through the tall trees lining the way. At first, Ward thought they were just older apple trees, but, looking closer, he saw they were different¡ªtaller with thicker trunks and broader leaves. They encroached on the lane, pitching the path into deep shadow, and the air became noticeably cooler. Ward could feel his nose and ears getting numb, and he pulled his hat down snugly and lifted the collar on his coat. He glanced at Haley, still wearing her vest over short sleeves. ¡°Cold?¡± She had to yell to be heard over the pounding hooves. ¡°Not since I did my forms! Gopah keeps me warm!¡± Ward threw her a thumbs up, but then he felt Grace¡¯s presence as she spoke into his ear, ¡°You¡¯re going to get yourself killed trying to be a hero for her. Just hide out in the bushes. When Nevkin comes out, use your dagger¡ªthrow it! The spell will make sure it hits home. Why give him a chance to kill you?¡± Ward¡¯s scowl returned, redoubled, but he didn¡¯t respond. Part of the reason he didn¡¯t say anything was because she was right. The smart thing to do was to jump the guy and take him out, leaving none the wiser. On the other hand, no matter what he told himself, he cared about what Haley thought of him. He cared about his promise to the marshal¡ªa fellow lawman. Ward smirked at that thought. Was he a lawman anymore? He¡¯d already stepped way outside the bounds of the law, whether you looked at it through the lens of a detective back on Earth or the local ideology of right and wrong. It wasn¡¯t okay to break into a guy¡¯s house to threaten his life after brutalizing his security. Right? Ward shook his head. That night felt like a blur, almost like he¡¯d been under the influence of something, but he hadn¡¯t been, had he? No, he¡¯d just been fed up. Fed up with murderers and thugs jumping him and fed up with seeing Haley hurt. Which brought him around to the current situation. He felt like he had to do this right. He had to help Haley find her way back to believing in ¡°Good,¡± or, if that was too much to ask, at least in right and wrong. As he finished the thought, he saw daylight ahead and realized the dense grove was coming to an end, which meant they¡¯d be closing in on Nevkin¡¯s likely hideout. He pulled on the reins, slowing Nutmeg to a walk. When Haley followed suit and looked his way, he nodded down the road. ¡°Almost there.¡± It only took a minute or two to clear the last of the big, sky-shrouding trees, and when the sun hit his face, Ward breathed more easily. It was like the light was chasing the dark musings away. ¡°There¡¯s the house.¡± Haley pointed, and Ward looked to see a low, stone fence running alongside the lane. About a hundred yards up, he could see a broad, rust-spotted, wrought-iron gate, propped open and held in place by a big stone block that looked to have once been part of the fence. An overgrown cobbled lane led up from the dirt and gravel path to a big, run-down manor on the hill. Ward could see dozens of missing slates on the roof, and, as his eyes drifted over the structure, he saw siding in need of paint and many gaps in the mortar between stone blocks. ¡°Looks like the place was on its last legs before Nevkin got here,¡± he grunted, clicking his tongue to urge Nutmeg toward the gate. Even in its disrepair, the building was big and imposing. He figured it had a few bedrooms upstairs, and the bottom level had a wing that stretched away from the road where he could envision a large hall or several good-sized rooms. ¡°It¡¯s strange to think about the family that could afford to build a place like this and how they somehow let it go to ruin. It makes me think of my parents¡¯ home in the country¡ªI wonder what Sonder¡¯s done with it.¡± ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter. Whatever he did, Marshal Aldiss will undo. Put that asshole out of your mind.¡± When Ward slid out of the saddle and tied Nutmeg by the gate, Grace was there again, frowning at him. ¡°You¡¯re really going to walk right up to him? He¡¯s going to kill you, Ward!¡± ¡°Grace thinks Nevkin¡¯s gonna kill me.¡± Haley looked up from where she was tying Wind Queen¡¯s lead to the fence. ¡°Don¡¯t you think maybe you should listen?¡± She looked up the rough drive to the big, dark house. ¡°Maybe we should surprise him.¡± Ward patted Nutmeg and sighed. He wanted to tell Haley to leave, that he¡¯d handle things, but he knew she wouldn¡¯t go and that he¡¯d probably upset her. They were ¡°partners,¡± right? With her there, though, he couldn¡¯t take Grace¡¯s advice. Haley had already killed one man by accident in a fit of rage. Her whole family was dead because of¡­ Ward shook his head, trying to banish the litany of regrets running through his mind. ¡°It might not make much sense right now, Haley, but we¡¯re not going to murder this shithead. If he wants to fight, I¡¯ll fight him, but we¡¯re not going to jump him from the bushes.¡± He glared at Grace. ¡°Got it?¡± ¡°Your funeral. At least tell Haley to stay back.¡± Ward continued to stare at Grace. Something about how she was acting was off, but he couldn¡¯t put his finger on it. When she looked away, the fire in her eyes dimly smoldering, he turned to Haley. ¡°If he wants to fight, you should stay back. You know, save your Gopah for an emergency.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll be your second.¡± Grace snorted. ¡°Hah! As if he¡¯s going to follow any dueling formalities!¡± She stomped up the path toward the house, still ranting, ¡°He¡¯ll probably blast you as soon as the door opens. He¡¯s probably got ten men loading up blunderbusses right now! They¡¯re probably watching¡­¡± Her voice grew faint, and Ward tuned her out and looked at Haley. She cocked an eyebrow. ¡°Is Grace talking to you?¡± ¡°She was. I think she¡¯s worried about us. I was serious, though. Stand well to the side; the mayor said his spell killed three men at once, but they were all standing together.¡± ¡°I will, Ward. Don¡¯t forget your spear.¡± ¡°Right.¡± Ward untied his spear and took it down from where he¡¯d lashed it to his saddlebag. ¡°Well? Shall we?¡± Haley unhooked her father¡¯s sword from Wind Queen¡¯s tack and slung it around her waist. She had to cinch it so tightly that a foot of leather hung out from the buckle. ¡°I¡¯ll need to get this fitted.¡± ¡°Yeah, but that works for now.¡± Ward started up the path with his spear held ready, his hands loose around the haft as he mentally prepared himself for violence. He couldn¡¯t think of a more fitting lair for a murderous, would-be Warlock. The house was foreboding in its ancient, run-down grandeur. The nearby trees were full of blackbirds that squawked and cawed, and the chilly fall breeze blew leaves over the overgrown cobbles, adding to the weird, spooky atmosphere of the place. Haley seemed to be thinking the same thing. ¡°It¡¯s creepy here. Did it just get darker?¡± She glanced up at the sky. Ward looked up, too, shading his eyes. It had been bright and more blue than gray when they stopped to water the horses, but now it was full of clouds. ¡°Sun¡¯s hiding behind the clouds, that¡¯s all.¡± He turned, looking back toward the gate where they¡¯d left the horses, and that¡¯s when he heard the pounding of hooves. Haley immediately whirled around, scanning the lane back toward the dark grove. ¡°Someone comes!¡± ¡°One horse?¡± ¡°I think so!¡± She turned back to the house, then back to the gate, and Ward could tell what she was thinking. They were caught in the open and had no idea if Nevkin was in the house or if that was him riding toward them. Ward planted the butt of his spear between two cobbles and leaned on it. ¡°Relax.¡± They were about halfway up the cobbled lane, still a good twenty-five yards from the wrought-iron gate that opened into the house¡¯s front courtyard. The closest tree was a stone¡¯s throw off to his left, and he had a clear view of every angle. ¡°No one¡¯s gonna sneak up on us. If that¡¯s Nevkin, we¡¯ll talk to him here. If it¡¯s not, we¡¯ll deal with whatever it is.¡± ¡°Maybe it¡¯s someone riding elsewhere¡­¡± Haley¡¯s words petered out as a gray, dappled stallion burst out of the dark grove and thundered up the lane toward the gate where Wind Queen and Nutmeg were tied. Nutmeg whinnied and stomped his hooves, pulling at the lead Ward had looped over the railing, but it was for naught¡ªthe darkly clad rider didn¡¯t even approach the gate. He jerked his stallion¡¯s reins, and the horse screamed a terror-filled whinny as it thundered toward the low block wall and leaped. ¡°Jesus!¡± Ward straightened up and lifted his spear. ¡°It¡¯s Nevkin!¡± Haley cried, and Ward saw she was right as the rider¡¯s hood fell away, exposing his bald, tattooed head. The frothing stallion charged over the grassy hillside toward them, and suddenly, Ward was a lot less worried about a fair, properly called-out duel. He lifted the spear, preparing to throw, just as he heard Nevkin¡¯s deep, resonant voice utter the first mind-bending, eye-bleeding, ear-rending word of power. 56. Desperate Measures 56 ¨C Desperate Measures Hearing that first word, Ward felt a burst of adrenaline like never before, and he launched the spear like a javelin. It ripped through the air, quivering, wobbling, but flying true, straight at Nevkin¡¯s chest. Nevkin saw it coming; his eyes flew wide with panic, and he choked off his spell as he fell back. Unfortunately, he didn¡¯t let go of the reins, and his big, wild-eyed stallion reared back, and Ward''s spear slammed into its chest, burying at least two feet of its length into the animal¡¯s flesh. Ward winced as the mighty animal screamed and thrashed, falling to its side as it writhed, kicking its hooves in the air. It was an ugly sight, and Ward immediately wanted to help the poor beast, but Nevkin rolled away and scrambled to his feet. Haley drew her sword and began to circle the downed horse and Nevkin to the right, so Ward jerked his knife from its sheath and moved to the left, hoping to draw the madman¡¯s gaze away from her. ¡°What¡¯s your problem, you little asshole?¡± Nevkin brushed at his robes. Ward wasn¡¯t sure why¡ªthey were tattered and stained and hung on him like the feathers of an anemic, molting crow. He glanced at the thrashing, wheezing horse¡ªWard was pretty sure he¡¯d put the spear right into its lung¡ªthen turned to Ward. ¡°You fool. You couldn¡¯t let it go, hmm? Well, you¡¯ve bitten off more than your stupid mouth can swallow. There are powers in Vainglory you shouldn¡¯t interfere with!¡± He reached into his robe, and Ward lifted his knife, ready to let it fly but also wanting to be sure he had a clear shot this time. Nevkin¡¯s hand came out with the mana-well, pulsing with pale blue light between his clenched, dirty fingers. Seeing the light bleed through those fingers drove home to Ward how far gone the man was. His robes weren¡¯t the only filthy part of him. His flesh was smeared with soot and dried¡­stuff. His nails were long and jagged, caked with grime, like he¡¯d been digging in the dirt with his bare hands. Nevkin licked his lips, and his silvery tongue winked in the failing sunlight. ¡°Looking for this?¡± He hefted the mana-well, almost like he meant to toss it up and catch it, but he didn¡¯t let go. Ward nodded, still circling, trying hard not to look toward Haley, who had effectively flanked the would-be warlock. ¡°I thought you couldn¡¯t charge it? No way the mana I put into it has lasted this long.¡± ¡°Another example of what a fool you are.¡± Nevkin held the mana-well up, peering at it as though he could see something within the arcane, throbbing blue light. He chuckled, his voice deep and resonant. ¡°Did you do anything special when you ¡®charged¡¯ it? I think not! All I must do is hold it near a corpse for a while, and¡ªwonder of wonders¡ªit fills with mana!¡± His voice was so clear and rich that Ward had a hard time believing it was coming from the strange, filthy, wild-eyed man standing before him. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t try throwing that little enchanted knife my way. I¡¯ll see it turn in the air and pierce your damned eye!¡± Ward arched an eyebrow. Could he do that? Could he speak words fast enough to stop a blade midflight? Did he need to? Maybe he had some kind of defensive spell ready. Ward shook his head. ¡°You¡¯re full of shit.¡± ¡°Try me and find out.¡± Nevkin gathered a wad of phlegm and spat. Ward growled, ready to close the distance and do some violence, but just then, the horse twitched violently, and one of its hooves pounded onto a cobble with a resounding thud. He glanced at the poor animal, his guilt getting the better of him for a moment, but it had ceased thrashing, and its snorting breaths were rapid and shallow. ¡°Would a healing draught help that horse?¡± ¡°You buffoon!¡± Nevkin laughed, leaning forward and slapping his knee. For a moment, Ward thought the fight, the wild violence of his charge, had fled before his mania. The hope was short-lived, though, as Nevkin suddenly straightened and whirled on Haley. ¡°Vrokun Dhravek-Prakhun Khryon Vikrin!¡± The words flew from his mouth so quickly that Ward hardly had time to widen his eyes and pull his arm back to throw before they tore through the air and, with their harsh, unfriendly syllables, slammed into his mind, stunning him as his nose began to flow with hot blood. He coughed, leaning forward to spit bloody saliva, but those effects were only secondary; his tiny vessels were collateral damage. The spell had been aimed at Haley. Ward watched her with bleary, bloodshot eyes as she stood, caught in the open by Nevkin¡¯s magic. He was sure he was about to see her sliced in half, but something else happened. The sword she held flared with brilliant crimson light, its runes blazing like neon-red letters. She stumbled back, dropped the sword with a yelp, and slapped her hands to her ears. ¡°What¡¯s this?¡± Nevkin crowed. He sounded more excited than upset. ¡°You¡¯ve brought me another artifact?¡± Ward could see rivulets of blood running down the back of Nevkin¡¯s scalp as the madman stared at Haley and the sword at her feet. He might have performed the spell, but it hadn¡¯t been easy. Meanwhile, Haley had fallen to her knees, still clutching her ears with eyes squeezed shut as tears of blood rolled down her cheeks. The sword might have somehow stopped the spell, but the simple proximity of such harsh magic had done a number on her. Ward straightened and lifted his knife as, to his dismay, Nevkin drew a long, curved dagger of his own, stalking toward Haley. Ward had seen enough. ¡°You¡¯re done,¡± he growled, then hurled his enchanted blade at the warlock. It flew like a glinting metallic missile, streaking toward the center of Nevkin¡¯s back. The warlock didn¡¯t dodge or whirl around to face the attack. He didn¡¯t even try to utter any magical words. The blade hit home, right in the center of his spine, but, to Ward¡¯s dismay, it slid harmlessly off the filthy, feather-clad robes. Nevkin only chuckled, and then, in a move that brought to mind memories of the young man as he was in the catacombs¡ªan efficient, deadly fighter with a rapier¡ªhe glided over the grassy slope and drove his knife into a stunned Haley¡¯s chest. Ward¡¯s world shattered into a thousand pieces as emotions and hormones fought for control of his mind. He exploded into motion, sprinting over the grassy hillside, leaping the cobbled drive to close the distance. All the while, his mind reeled with dismay, guilt, horror, and furious, blood-red thoughts of vengeance. Nevkin was leaning over, reaching for Haley¡¯s sword, when Ward, fueled by his powerful, youthful body, closed the distance and shoulder-checked him like a linebacker trying to ruin a quarterback¡¯s career. Nevkin made a sound like, ¡°Ooarghph!¡± He flew several feet before crunching into the ground on his shoulder and rolling several feet. Ward bent to pick up Haley¡¯s sword and glanced at her face¡ªwhite, wide-eyed, and gasping¡ªas she tentatively touched the oozing puncture wound in the center of her chest left behind by Nevkin¡¯s knife. ¡°Do something!¡± Grace screamed, suddenly there, leaning over Haley¡¯s shuddering form. ¡°Hang on,¡± he grunted, then lifted the heavy, razor-sharp broadsword and stalked toward the downed Warlock. Nevkin had come to rest on his back, and he panted, his face drawn in pain, as he tried to scrabble backward. His left arm wasn¡¯t cooperating; something had broken when he struck the ground. Still, he managed to get into a crouching, unsteady, fighting stance as Ward hacked the sword at him. Nevkin¡¯s right arm was strong and fast, and he knew how to fight. He blocked the blow, using Ward¡¯s momentum against him, stepping to the side and dragging the blade of his bloody knife along Ward¡¯s ribs, slicing into his heavy wool coat. Ward whirled, hacking the sword in a wide, whooshing backhand cleave, and Nevkin dodged back, licking his lips with his silvery tongue. ¡°Did I hurt your little plaything?¡± He chased the taunt with a maniacal giggle, which had the desired effect: Ward went mad. He was taller, heavier, and had eight inches of reach on the twisted, stinking, filthy madman, and that was without considering the length of his sword versus Nevkin¡¯s knife. Still, somehow, Ward failed to land a hit with a series of whirling, wild hacks. Nevkin dodged and sidestepped, always moving just enough to avoid the blade but not much more. Even as he dodged, he delivered several perfectly placed thrusts with his long, curved knife. Ward¡¯s coat slowed the blade, and Nevkin had to move too quickly to deliver a deadly blow, but, nonetheless, Ward could feel the hot blood running down his ribs and over his stomach. The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°Ward!¡± Grace screamed, standing behind Nevkin. ¡°You have to calm down and think.¡± Ward wanted to ignore her, but somehow, her words came through the red haze clouding his vision. She was right; Nevkin would bleed him out bit by bit, just as he¡¯d done to the lizard-man he fought in the catacombs. Nevkin didn¡¯t look great; he was panting, his left arm wasn¡¯t moving right, and he was bleeding from several large lesions on his scalp. Looking at him, figuring he couldn¡¯t weigh more than a hundred and forty pounds, Ward made a snap decision. ¡°You want the sword?¡± he growled. Nevkin must have intuited something of Ward¡¯s intention because he lifted his knife in a guard position before his face, but it wasn¡¯t enough. Ward brought the sword up in a two-handed grip, and then, with all his might, he hurled it overhead, straight at Nevkin. They were only a couple of yards apart, and even though the throw was well-broadcasted, Nevkin barely ducked enough to avoid the brunt of the spinning weapon¡¯s impact. Still, the hilt caught him above the ear, perhaps dazing him just long enough for Ward¡¯s follow-up¡ªan open-armed, diving tackle. He drove Nevkin to the ground, easily overpowering the smaller man as he wrapped him in a bear hug. Nevkin couldn¡¯t break his fall, so his face impacted the hard, cold soil, and Ward capitalized, driving his weight into the warlock¡¯s back and grinding his flesh into the rough dirt and yellowed, dry grass. Nevkin grunted and wheezed, and Ward ground his knee into his spine, holding him fixed in place as he grabbed his bald, bleeding head into a headlock. He hooked his arm around Nevkin¡¯s throat, and he squeezed with everything he had, pushing his other arm into the back of Nevkin¡¯s head. Nevkin bucked and thrashed, slapping his good arm, still grasping the knife, ineffectually against Ward¡¯s heavy coat sleeve. Ward was still seeing red. Mercy wasn¡¯t welcome in his mental space, and he squeezed. Nevkin stopped thrashing, and Ward still squeezed, and it wasn¡¯t until Grace began to slap his head that he registered her screaming words, ¡°¡­Haley, you idiot!¡± Understanding washed over him like a bucket of cold water, and Ward released Nevkin. Still, he didn¡¯t trust the little bastard to stay dead, so he plucked the knife out of his limp fingers and drove it through his neck, pinning it to the hard soil. The body didn¡¯t so much as twitch. Ward staggered to his feet¡ªsomewhere along the line, he¡¯d hurt his knee¡ªand limp-jogged over to Haley. She lay there on the grass, pale and still, her leather vest utterly soaked in blood. ¡°I need a healing draught¡ªthe salve!¡± Ward gasped, turning to run down the cobbled lane to where they¡¯d tied the horses. ¡°Hurry, Ward!¡± Grace screamed, still standing near Haley. Ward frantically pawed through Haley¡¯s saddlebags, looking for the tonics she¡¯d purchased and the cream he¡¯d used so many times to staunch his bleeding cuts. Would it be enough? Nevkin had buried his blade in her chest¡­ Ward shook his head and grabbed one of the little glass bottles and a jar of the salve, running back to Haley¡¯s still figure. ¡°She doesn¡¯t look good, Ward!¡± Ward slid to his knees beside her and ripped the cork out of the healing draught. He tipped it to Haley¡¯s pale, blood-stained lips and tried to get her to drink, but she was utterly still. Ward pulled on her chin to open her mouth and poured some of the faintly fizzing liquid inside, but she didn¡¯t swallow, even when he tried massaging her throat like he used to do for his old labrador when she wouldn¡¯t swallow a pill. Her flesh felt too cool, and Ward couldn¡¯t feel a pulse. ¡°Goddammit!¡± he roared. In desperation, he fumbled with the ties on Haley¡¯s leather vest and ripped it open, exposing her pale chest with its gaping, dark, wedge-shaped hole. Ward blinked, too furious, stricken, and frantic to care that he was openly weeping. He unscrewed the jar of salve and scooped some out, reaching to smear it on the wound. He knew it was too late, though¡ªif she were alive, it would still be bleeding, and it wasn¡¯t. ¡°Goddammit!¡± he groaned, this time with a hitch in his throat. ¡°I¡¯m an idiot! Why didn¡¯t I make her stay back in the town? I could have lied! I could have said I was going to scout it out.¡± When Grace didn¡¯t speak¡ªnot to argue or condemn or even to commiserate, he looked to see her sitting in the grass near Haley¡¯s head, a look of utter defeat on her face. She stared down at Haley¡¯s splayed-out hair, wringing her fingers in her lap. Ward fell away from Haley¡¯s body to sprawl in the grass. ¡°I¡¯m not wrong, am I?¡± He wiped a bloody hand across his face and looked up at the pale, cloudy sky. ¡°She¡¯s gone.¡± ¡°We have to do something,¡± Grace whispered. ¡°What? What can we do? CPR isn¡¯t going to fix whatever that knife cut inside her. I think it must have sliced an artery or her heart. Jesus.¡± Ward pushed himself up, leaning over Haley¡¯s still form again, putting his face close to hers. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry. Dammit, Grace, she didn¡¯t deserve any of the shit she went through. She was a sweet kid, you know? One fucking tragedy after another¡ª" His words choked off as an involuntary sob hit him. It surprised him¡ªthat choking breath. He hadn¡¯t cried in longer than he could remember. Not really. He¡¯d teared up about a few things, but the last time he¡¯d sobbed was¡­Ward shook his head. He honestly couldn¡¯t remember. He stroked Haley¡¯s soft, black hair, gently rubbing his thumbs on her cool brow, wishing she¡¯d open her eyes and he could tell her everything was going to be all right. Of course, wishes were one thing and reality another. She lay motionless, still as¡­Well, he supposed, still as death. Suddenly, nothing felt worthwhile. His murderous vengeance, his burgeoning ability to cast spells, his existence in a new, wondrous world¡ªwhat did any of it matter? The one person he¡¯d tried so hard to help, protect, and befriend was dead. Dead after days and days of suffering. He''d watched her lose everything and made hollow, stupid promises about partnership and adventure. Grace¡¯s voice was very small as she whispered, so much so that he almost didn¡¯t hear her, ¡°Ward, she doesn¡¯t have any anima.¡± He narrowed his dark brows into a scowl, some of the red returning to his vision as, once again, adrenaline flooded his system. ¡°The fuck do you mean?¡± he growled. ¡°She doesn¡¯t! Do you see any?¡± Ward looked over Haley¡¯s still form, and though he didn¡¯t see any tiny blue motes, he shook his head, puzzled. ¡°Doesn¡¯t mean shit. Sometimes it takes a while. Remember the scav?¡± He was still feeling dangerously on edge. Grace was up to something; he was sure of it. ¡°Why¡¯d you say that?¡± ¡°I can tell, okay? It¡¯s part of my¡­thing. I can see she doesn¡¯t have any anima. She¡¯s stuck! She¡¯s going to¡­I don¡¯t know, become whatever happens to souls with no anima to move on. A ghost? A poltergeist? Maybe she¡¯ll fade into nothing. Whatever it is, it isn¡¯t good!¡± Grace looked at him with pleading eyes, and Ward felt his anger flee. Did she really care about Haley? He certainly did. What could he do, though? ¡°The spell,¡± Grace said, reaching out to grasp his wrist in her warm, slender fingers. ¡°What?¡± Ward shook his head. He knew what she meant¡ªthe spell Aldiss had given him. If he weren¡¯t so upset, so distraught, he might have laughed. ¡°I can¡¯t even read those goddamn words, Grace. There¡¯s no way I can get that spell in my head! If I did manage to learn it, though, it would kill me to cast!¡± She shook her head, staring at something behind him, and Ward turned to follow her gaze. Nevkin¡¯s slumped corpse, the hilt of a knife standing proudly from the back of his neck, lay there. ¡°You¡¯re forgetting something.¡± Suddenly, her meaning clicked in his head, and Ward did laugh¡ªa short, bitter sound. ¡°I¡¯m not putting that fucking tongue in my mouth.¡± Grace¡¯s fingers tightened on his wrist, and she leaned close and hissed, ¡°You wouldn¡¯t do that for Haley? Wouldn¡¯t you go through a little suffering to save her soul?¡± Ward scowled and locked eyes with her. ¡°This isn¡¯t like you, Grace. You¡¯re cut-throat.¡± Ward could feel something niggling in his gut; something wasn¡¯t adding up. ¡°How did Haley lose her anima?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know!¡± Grace snapped. ¡°I might be ¡®cut-throat,¡¯ Ward, but you know I like Haley! If she had anima, I¡¯d let this go, but Ward, she only has one hope! You read the note about the spell! The longer you wait, the harder it will be on her, the more risk there is!¡± He frowned, still holding Haley¡¯s head in his hands, with Grace¡¯s fingers latched onto his wrist. He stared at her pale visage; bloody tears had left streaks on her wan cheeks, but otherwise, she seemed at peace. Could her soul really be lost forever? The spell had been rife with warnings, saying never to use it if any other hope existed. Was there any hope? If not, was he willing to do what Grace asked? Could he pull that evil tongue out of Nevkin¡¯s mouth and let it take root in his own? Was it evil, or was it just a tool? One of his doubts found its way out of his mouth, ¡°It drove Nevkin nuts.¡± ¡°Maybe. Or maybe he was already a psychopath. They¡¯re good at hiding their nature, you know. Perhaps casting too many spells his body couldn¡¯t handle is what brought out his true self. Ward, you have to try!¡± Again, Grace squeezed his wrist, and he could hear the plaintive despair in her voice. If she was acting, she was damn good. He stared at Haley¡¯s face for another long moment. Then, with dread in his heart and blood like ice in his veins, he stood and walked over to where his knife had fallen. His short walk to Nevkin¡¯s corpse felt strange¡ªlike he was drifting through air thick as molasses, as if he were on his way to the gallows. His hands remained steady, though, and his mind resolute as he turned Nevkin over and pried apart his filthy, black-stained lips. He had to jam the knife between his teeth to force the jaw open, and there, glistening like a secret treasure, lay the warlock¡¯s silver tongue. 57. Nothingness 57 ¨C Nothingness Ward steeled himself, gritting his teeth against the stench of the filthy corpse. He¡¯d been dead just a few minutes, but Nevkin had smelled like a carcass even before death. With dread and the conviction that he had to do anything he could to try to help Haley, Ward reached into that slimy, lukewarm mouth and wrapped his fingers around the tongue, pulling it straight while he lifted the knife in his other hand. To his amazement, as he tugged on the cold, wet thing, it kept coming. With wide, horrified eyes, he pulled it free, leaving behind a trail of glistening, blood-tinged saliva on Nevkin¡¯s lip and chin. As Ward fought an involuntary gag, Grace observed, ¡°Looks like it doesn¡¯t like being part of a corpse.¡± Ward grunted and stuffed his knife into his sheath. He stared at the length of strange, silvery flesh in his hand. Was it silver? Flesh? Some kind of weird, magical blend? The tail end wasn¡¯t like any sort of anatomical tongue, at least not as far as Ward knew; it had four hooked barbs trailing out of the bulk of the silvery meat. ¡°I can¡¯t believe I¡¯m gonna stick this damned thing into my mouth.¡± As he muttered, he looked over at Haley¡¯s still, pale figure, and his resolve hardened. ¡°Rinse it!¡± Grace pointed to the healing tonic he¡¯d left in the grass beside Haley¡¯s body. Ward nodded. ¡°How do I even activate it?¡± ¡°Mana, I guess.¡± Grace peered at Nevkin¡¯s corpse. ¡°The mana-well! Where is it? Wasn¡¯t he holding it?¡± Ward tucked the creepy, too-real feeling tongue into his pocket and looked around, scanning the scene of his scuffle with Nevkin. He saw Haley¡¯s sword and walked over to it. As he picked it up, he caught the faint gleam of blue light from the corner of his eye and spied the mana-well in some tall grass down the hill by the fence. He jogged over and scooped it up. ¡°It¡¯s a lot dimmer than it was.¡± ¡°Well, that spell he cast couldn¡¯t have been cheap. I can¡¯t believe Haley¡¯s sword absorbed it.¡± Ward lifted the sword, turning it left and right with his wrist. It looked the same to him, though he thought maybe the dark, jagged runes were a touch blacker¡ªdeeper. Did they heat the metal when they absorbed the magic? ¡°Is that what it did? Did it get hot?¡± Grace was back by Haley¡¯s body. ¡°Seemed like it to me. Haley dropped it in pain. Come look at her hand.¡± Ward grunted in the affirmative and then began hiking up the hill, only to have his attention grabbed by a faintly glowing cloud of luminescent mana motes drifting up out of Nevkin¡¯s corpse. ¡°How does a dirty bastard like that have anima when Haley has none?¡± He peered at Grace, where she knelt near Haley, and, for the hundredth time in just a few minutes, wondered what she was hiding. She ignored him, staring down, her eyes hooded beneath her pale brows. Ward crouched by Nevkin¡¯s stinking body and reached his hand into the cloud of motes, still holding the mana-well. Just as in the catacombs, the tiny motes practically swarmed the dense orb of metal, and its glow steadily intensified. Meanwhile, Ward closed his eyes and focused, trying to calm his mind and draw some of the motes into himself. He felt some, but not many, enter his flesh¡ªtiny, cold tingles that raced up his arm to the nape of his neck and then shivered down his spine. The sensation faded all too quickly, and when he opened his eyes, the mana-well seemed to be finished, too. Ward carried the brightly glowing orb over to Grace and sat beside Haley¡¯s left shoulder. He set the mana-well on the grass between them and fished the silver tongue out of his pocket, grimacing at the tacky, dried fluids on the cool metal-flesh. He was reluctant to waste the healing draught, but he felt better about rinsing the thing with it than he would with plain water, especially since it would be going into his mouth. He shuddered, remembering how the thing had taken root in Nevkin, ripping out his natural tongue in the process. ¡°God, I wish there was a better way to do this. Another answer¡­¡± ¡°There¡¯s not, Ward! Don¡¯t waste more time!¡± ¡°What the hell is your deal? This isn¡¯t like you.¡± Ward drizzled the healing tonic over the tongue as he spoke, rubbing with his fingers to clean it as much as possible. Grace didn¡¯t answer the question but said, ¡°You might need another one of those. I mean, depending on how much that tongue helps you with the spell.¡± ¡°Ah, dammit.¡± Ward sighed and stood, trudging back toward the horses. ¡°I need my grimoire, too.¡± A minute later, he was sitting back down, book in hand, another two healing tonics¡ªthe last ones he could find in Haley¡¯s saddlebags¡ªon the grass beside him. Every time he glanced at Haley¡¯s body, he felt a wave of despair and guilt, and the only thing that was keeping him from breaking down was the idea that he was doing something. Even knowing, in the back of his mind, that things might not work, that the tongue might not be enough to help him cast the spell, or that the spell would fail, he was able to push the reality of her death into a corner of his mind as he worked. Ward gripped the cold, flexible artifact in his left hand and carefully drew the mana-well over its surface, trying to recreate the circumstances that had triggered it for Nevkin. ¡°I don¡¯t have the damn box. I left it in the catacombs. What if it needed those glowing gems to activate¡ª¡± His words died in his mouth as the tongue throbbed and twitched. ¡°It¡¯s working!¡± Grace hissed. ¡°No shit¡ª¡± Again, Ward choked off his words as the tongue convulsed in his grip and began to writhe. ¡°Do it, Ward! Be brave! Put it in your mouth!¡± ¡°Easy for you to say!¡± He growled, but another glance at Haley¡¯s pale face, with the now-dried blood streaks running down her cheeks, steeled his nerves, and Ward hesitantly lifted the artifact toward his mouth. It throbbed and writhed like a caught lizard trying to win free, but when the tail end with its four twitching barbs passed the threshold of his lips, they shot out and speared the flesh of his tongue. In a panic, perhaps because of the pain or possibly out of disgust, Ward tried to pull it away, but it was fruitless; the barbs were dug in, and the blood and saliva he coughed out made the tongue slick; it slipped from his fingers and dug further into his mouth. Later, Ward might argue about what was worse: the pain or the horror. The idea that a thing was digging into his flesh, ripping his tongue to shreds, and slithering further and further into his mouth and throat was so awful that he couldn¡¯t properly think of a way to describe it. It was something out of a horror movie¡ªAlien or some Body Snatchers remake. It was a nightmare come true, and Ward fell onto his back, screaming and gargling blood as he tried to claw at the thing and pull it out, his earlier resolve blown away by the primal fear and disgust that had overtaken his mind. He felt Grace beside him, pushing against his shoulder, turning him onto his side so he could cough and spit out the blood and bits of ripped flesh that used to be his tongue. And then, as suddenly as it had begun, it was over. The tongue stopped digging; the pain faded, and, to Ward¡¯s amazement, a pleasant, warm sensation radiated through his mouth and outward, into his head and neck and down to his chest. It felt amazing, like the really good stuff the anesthesiologist gives you before a procedure. ¡°Holy shit,¡± he groaned, and his voice sounded funny in his ears¡ªlike he was speaking through an old-timey, cone-shaped megaphone. ¡°That feels good! You should check the hemograph!¡± Grace was squatting in front of his face, just past the hunks of bloody, torn flesh. Ward pushed himself up and away from the remnants of his tongue.You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. ¡°No time for that. Where¡¯s my book?¡± Again, Ward¡¯s mind rebelled at the idea that he was hearing his own voice, but he pushed the thought aside and scrambled back to Haley and his grimoire. As he sat down and flipped open the book to the spell he¡¯d gotten from Marshal Aldiss, Grace squatted before him, peering at his face. ¡°You seem¡­fine.¡± ¡°It feels fine. Everything but my voice. No, I take it back. It''s not fine, but great. I feel, shit, I feel almost like I did after the refinement potion.¡± ¡°The tongue¡­¡± Grace rubbed her chin, nodding slowly. ¡°It must do more than just, you know, replace your tongue. It¡¯s an artifact; maybe it¡¯s enhancing you somehow. Maybe you should stop and do a reading on the hemograph.¡± Ward ignored her, and she leaned close, staring at the spell page with him. ¡°Can you read it now?¡± ¡°Um,¡± Ward squinted and frowned. The words were uncomfortable to look at, but they weren¡¯t bursting any blood vessels. They weren¡¯t instantly giving him a migraine. ¡°I guess so. They¡¯re not pleasant, but, yeah, I can read them.¡± ¡°Maybe you should forget it¡ª¡± ¡°Oh, shit!¡± Ward growled, looking up at her with a scowl. ¡°You just wanted me to put that fucking tongue in my mouth! You didn¡¯t care about Haley!¡± He shook his head, too angry to focus on the page before him. ¡°You knew I wouldn¡¯t do that¡ªnot for a boost in power; you knew the only way I¡¯d do it was to help her. You conniving little¡ª¡± ¡°Ward! That¡¯s not true! You¡¯re being paranoid! Listen to yourself! I just don¡¯t want you to die, too!¡± ¡°You didn¡¯t seem to have any such concern before I put this damned thing in my mouth!¡± Ward felt his heart racing, saw actual red pulsing in his vision, and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to force the feelings down. Grace was babbling about something, but he couldn¡¯t make sense of the words. Finally, after several deep breaths, he opened his eyes, and, rather than look at Grace and get himself worked up again, he focused on the spell, studying the motions he was supposed to do when he memorized the words. Grace seemed to have taken the hint and moved away, out of his line of sight, quiet. Ward glanced up to the sky before getting started. The sun was still up¡ªmid-afternoon by his estimation¡ªand, though it was chilly, and the crows were cawing, the place felt oddly peaceful. The big house sat silent; the lane leading to the dark grove was deserted, and the wind had died down. ¡°Haley,¡± he whispered, ¡°if you¡¯re there, if you can hear me, I¡¯m gonna try this, but I want you to know I¡¯m sorry. I should¡¯ve done a better job protecting you. I should¡¯ve lied about coming to face Nevkin and tricked you into staying in town.¡± He sniffed and sucked in a deep breath, then he began to do the movements. As he went through the motions the first few times, he had to check the spell page repeatedly; they were far more complicated than either of his other spells. He felt his limbs were contorted and strained, his muscles and ligaments stretched to their breaking point over and over. The words felt strange and uncomfortable as he mouthed them, trying to repeat them to the beat of his heart. The experience was so strenuous and difficult that soon, he was sweating, and he threw off his hat and coat despite the chill. He kept getting caught in an awkward position, unable to make the transition between the fourth movement and the fifth before a lightbulb went off in his head, and he realized he was looking at the form figures wrong. He¡¯d assumed they were meant to be performed from a seated position like the other spells he¡¯d learned, but the fourth and fifth forms were too complicated for that. When he realized that, it all sort of clicked. The first three forms were meant to be seated, the fourth was a transition, the fifth a standing position, and then the sixth a transition back to the ground where he¡¯d finish with the seventh. All of that was for just three of the words, and then he had a similarly complicated dance for the second half of the spell. Once he incorporated the transition from the ground to a standing position, his movements became more and more smooth with each cycle, and, though it was hard work, the completion of the complicated maneuver became its own reward. After a while, once he¡¯d finally begun to feel the rhythm of the movements in conjunction with the cadence of the words of power as he silently repeated them like an inner mantra, he began to lose himself in the flow. He was so engrossed in his efforts, so lost to the thrum of power as the words reverberated in his core, vibrating his guts and tingling against his spine, flaring like strange, otherworldly stars in his mind¡¯s eye, that he didn¡¯t even notice the setting of the sun and the chilly frost that began to form on the hard ground and yellowed grass¡ªon Haley¡¯s poor, lifeless body. ¡°Ward!¡± Grace hissed, startling him out of his rhythmic flowing movements. When he opened his eyes, Grace flinched back. ¡°I¡¯m sorry! But, Ward, it¡¯s been hours. What if it¡¯s too late?¡± ¡°I almost have it,¡± he growled, and, again, Grace flinched, stepping away from him. ¡°Your eyes are blazing.¡± ¡°This spell is a lot. I can feel it¡ªalmost whole. Let me finish.¡± With that, Ward took up the dance again, no longer dreading the magic, no longer worried, only hungry to feel what it would be like to complete it. Somewhere in the distance, a wolf howled, and the sound penetrated his self-imposed mesmerization enough for him to wonder what sorts of wolves could be found in a world like Cinder. He¡¯d just had the thought when he completed a recitation of the words in his mind, and he felt the spell snap into place, whole and ready to be released into the world. Ward looked inward, studying the jagged, sharp angles of the spell in his mind, and he felt the taste of copper on his new tongue as some tiny vessels exploded in his nasal passage. He opened his eyes and looked up, pinching the bridge of his nose. ¡°This spell might kill me.¡± ¡°Then forget it! What good will it do Haley if you kill yourself trying to save her? Maybe it¡¯s not the end¡ªhaving no anima! Maybe her spirit will linger here and, I don¡¯t know, gather ambient mana until it can move on. What if¡ª¡± Ward growled, and his voice echoed over the moonlit, frosty slope as he chopped his hand in the air. ¡°Are we just brainstorming fairy tales? We don¡¯t know anything except this: a soul needs anima to move on. Like you said,¡± Ward pointed to Haley¡¯s cold, stiffening body, ¡°she has none. I won¡¯t let her existence end here if I have even a tiny chance of helping her.¡± He turned to squarely face Haley¡¯s body, gathering his courage, but Grace rushed toward him, grabbing his arm. ¡°Wait! You have two tonics! Drink one right before you cast the spell and keep the other in your hand to drink after!¡± Ward frowned. ¡°Do they work that way? Can I drink one preemptively?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know! It won¡¯t hurt, will it?¡± ¡°I guess only in so much as it might be a waste.¡± Ward shrugged and stooped to pick up the two glass, cork-stoppered jars. He frowned as his eyes lingered on the mana-well. What if he didn¡¯t have enough mana to complete the spell? ¡°Should I hold the mana-well, too?¡± ¡°Yes! If you don¡¯t have enough personal mana, the spell will fail. I think.¡± Grace sounded a little panicked, and Ward, much cooler of temper after spending several hours meditating and dancing, began to feel a little less suspicious of her. He grabbed the mana-well in his left hand, arranging the two healing tonics in his right. He tore the cork from one of them with his teeth and took stock. Was he really doing this? ¡°Bottoms up,¡± he grunted, tossing down the first tonic. It was slightly fizzy and lemony, but other than that, he didn¡¯t feel anything special. Not wanting to waste a second of its efficacy, he clutched the mana-well tightly, looked at Haley¡¯s body, and coughed out the words, wincing and crying tears of blood as they ripped their way out of his throat, ¡°Bryve, Spirvak, Dhravek, Prakhun, Dhravek, Vrothun!¡± It felt like the words had roots in his guts, his chest, his brain. It felt like they ripped bits of him out and dragged them along as they flew from his mouth, rolling like oil over glass on his new tongue. Ward fell to his knees, spewing blood like a fountain. His vision darkened as red tunnels closed in, but he stared at Haley¡¯s pale corpse, watching, desperate to see if the spell would work. His ears rang, and he could hear the rushing of his blood, nothing else, as the words echoed and reverberated in the field, sending dead grass fluttering into the air, vibrating his bones, and making Haley¡¯s still flesh quiver. Then they hit home, etching themselves like a brand on her pale chest, encircling the wound Nevkin¡¯s knife had made. Just before the tunnel walls closed in, Ward saw Haley¡¯s eyes snap open. Ward tried to hold onto consciousness. He tried to lift the other tonic to his lips, but when his vision failed, and the world turned black, his body collapsed beneath him like someone had severed his every ligament. Darkness and silence swallowed him whole, and Ward drifted through the ether of nothingness. 58. Places to Be 58 ¨C Places to Be Ward¡¯s journey through nothingness was interrupted periodically by moments of sensation¡ªhands grasping and lifting, bouncing, jostling, pain and discomfort, and the occasional muffled, soggy-sounding voices of people speaking nearby. ¡°¡­couldn¡¯t find anything.¡± ¡°¡­check again later¡­¡± ¡­ ¡­ ¡°I wish¡­I wish he hadn¡¯t done it.¡± ¡°You¡¯d rather¡­¡± ¡­ ¡°¡­mayor¡¯s office.¡± ¡°Right, then the inn. You need to find an alchemist¡­¡± They went on like that, just snatches of conversation that his muddled, fuzzy mind couldn¡¯t make sense of as he seemed to drift in and out of partial consciousness. If you asked him what his name was, Ward might have struggled to answer, assuming he had any control over his mouth and vocal cords, which didn¡¯t seem to be the case. He saw nothing but darkness, no matter how he tried to blink and open his eyes. He felt like he was hanging upside down while someone gently tenderized his guts. None of the sounds coming to him¡ªthe voices, the drumming, the whistling, the ringing¡ªseemed right, and his occasional attempt to speak sounded something like ¡°Gwoaarf¡± to his ears. After a time, he felt himself being moved again, heard a lot more snatches of meaningless conversation, and then it felt like he was on his back and a great deal more comfortable. Rather than struggle against it, Ward embraced the dark emptiness that pulled on his consciousness like a sinker on a bait line. He drifted down into that depthless, heavy black and surrendered himself to oblivion. When he came back to himself, he was confused. He could feel warmth on his cheeks that reminded him of sunlight, but his vision was dark, no matter how he blinked his eyes. Still befuddled by his mind¡¯s resistance to waking, he fumbled at his face with numb-feeling fingers and realized that his eyes were wrapped in several layers of tight cloth. Bandages? He could hear sounds, but they came to him like they were muffled by cotton, so he prodded at his ear, only to find a sticky, waxy substance liberally caked inside his ear canal. Before he could explore further, someone slapped his hand away. ¡°Stop that!¡± The voice sounded wrong¡ªtoo low and muffled¡ªbut he was pretty sure it was Grace. ¡°The alchemist said you¡¯d need to keep it in your ears for at least two days. Don¡¯t even think about unwrapping your eyes, either.¡± ¡°Gracks¡ª¡± Ward coughed and cleared his throat, then licked his lips and tried again, ¡°Grace?¡± ¡°That¡¯s right, dummy.¡± He felt her hands on his cheeks, then her breath on his ear as she spoke, her voice loud, exaggerating her enunciations, ¡°You almost died! Good thing you were gripping that second healing tonic because I was able to manipulate your hand into dumping it down your gullet!¡± ¡°Will I heal?¡± Ward cringed inwardly at the tremulous nature of his voice as he clarified, ¡°I mean, will I see again?¡± ¡°The alchemist thinks so. A lot of your vessels burst¡ªall over. I¡¯m pretty sure you had an aneurysm or two, and you definitely had a heart attack. If you weren¡¯t, you know, an ¡®awakened¡¯ human, I think you¡¯d have died for sure. You¡¯re sturdy, though.¡± ¡°What about¡ª¡± Ward had to cough again, at first because of the dryness in his throat, but then it triggered a real fit as something that had gathered in his windpipe wanted to get out. He hacked and coughed, and he saw something other than darkness for the first time since waking as little bursts of light exploded in his vision. He supposed it was just his blood pressure spiking as he convulsed, but it was frightening all the same, considering Grace¡¯s comment about aneurysms. He felt her direct his hand to a cloth lying on the bed beside him, and he lifted it to his lips as he coughed and wheezed. ¡°That¡¯s it. Just get it out. Probably old blood.¡± Grace wasn¡¯t wrong; it tasted coppery as he spat into the cloth and wiped his lips. After he fell back on his pillows, gasping for air, it took him a minute or two to remember what he¡¯d been trying to say. When it clicked, though, he blurted, ¡°Haley! What about¡ª¡± ¡°She¡¯s alive.¡± Again, he felt Grace¡¯s hand on his cheek. He wanted to hate it. He wanted to shove it aside, but he also found it immensely comforting, considering his sensory deprivation. Did she know that? Was that why she was being so touchy-feely? ¡°And?¡± he pressed. ¡°Better to wait until you¡¯re better. There¡¯s a lot to unpack¡ª¡± ¡°Tell me, goddammit!¡± Ward wasn¡¯t in the mood for games. He¡¯d just about killed himself trying to save the girl, and he wanted to know how badly he¡¯d messed things up¡ªhe was sure he must have. The spell had so many warnings, and the whole thing just felt so dark and wrong. He couldn¡¯t have left her to fade into nothingness, though, could he? Not now that he knew there was a chance for something more. ¡°She¡¯s, well, she¡¯s herself, but she¡¯s different. Are you familiar with the idea of ¡®undeath?¡¯ I mean, like¡ª¡± Ward groaned. ¡°Don¡¯t tell me she¡¯s a damn zombie!¡± Suddenly, Grace¡¯s gentle touch turned rough as she grabbed the sides of Ward¡¯s head and hissed into his clogged ear, ¡°Quiet! First of all, you¡¯re lucky she¡¯s not in here right now, but she¡¯s next door, and these walls are thin! Second of all, no, she¡¯s not a zombie, but she¡¯s¡ªUgh! I don¡¯t know. She¡¯s different, and you¡¯ll need to see for yourself what I mean. I only said the¡±¡ªher voice grew so quiet that Ward could barely make it out¡ª¡°thing about undeath because I don¡¯t know how to explain her changes.¡± ¡°How¡ª¡± ¡°She can see me now, by the way.¡± ¡°What?¡± ¡°Yeah. After you nearly killed yourself, and I pushed that tonic into your throat, she started moving. I only caught a few glimpses as you convulsed, but her wound closed up, and her eyes opened and stared right at me. We¡¯ve been speaking since.¡± Ward wanted to get up. He wanted to look at Haley with his own two eyes. He wanted to speak to her and see if it was really her; had he brought something back with her? Hadn¡¯t the spell warned that it would infuse her with an ¡°unnatural¡± power from beyond the veil? ¡°Too late to cry over spilt milk,¡± he sighed. ¡°I was a little surprised by how quickly you embraced the idea of using that spell. I thought you¡¯d balk more about the tongue. How does it feel, by the way?¡± Ward¡¯s heart nearly stopped. He¡¯d forgotten! He touched his teeth with the appendage in question, running it along his gums, consciously noting the feel and the taste of his saliva. It felt perfectly normal. ¡°I can¡¯t tell the difference.¡± ¡°Well, you sound different. I mean, it¡¯s like your voice is more resonant. Kind of how Nevkin¡¯s was, but less¡­insane.¡± Suddenly, he felt her brushing the hair away from his forehead, gently stroking his flesh. Again, he warred with himself¡ªshould he cuss and tell her to get off? Should he just enjoy the sensation? Ward caved in and sighed, succumbing to a stupid, childish relief at the soothing touch. ¡°You¡¯re going to be okay. I wish you could see. I want to know what the hemograph will say about you after absorbing that artifact.¡± ¡°What do you mean ¡®absorbing¡¯?¡± He frowned. ¡°Wait. How can you see?¡± ¡°I can¡¯t¡­exactly. Haley described things to me when we got in. She bought the rooms and everything, obviously. She also dropped Nevkin¡¯s corpse off at the mayor¡¯s office. I told her to search the mansion for his grimoire, but she couldn¡¯t find it and was too worried about you to linger long. I couldn¡¯t argue, seeing as I¡¯m rather invested in your survival¡ª¡± She stopped speaking abruptly as Ward heard a faint click and then the hollow thunk of a door closing. ¡°Good morning, Haley.¡± ¡°Grace. Is he all right?¡± Ward lifted a hand and waved in the general direction of the voice. ¡°Haley?¡± He heard muffled footsteps, and then he felt fingers taking his hand. They were cool but very much ¡°alive¡± feeling, and Ward felt his irrational fear that he¡¯d somehow turned Haley into a zombie begin to recede. Was Grace just riling him up? No, he reasoned, she¡¯d sounded very sincere about something being different with Haley. He squeezed her fingers, folding her hand in his. ¡°Why¡¯d you do that, Ward?¡± Haley¡¯s voice was soft, and Ward could barely hear her with the stuff in his ears. He wondered how much of that was really due to the clogging or if his ears simply weren¡¯t working right. How much hearing would he lose? Could some goop in his ears fix blown-out, scarred-up eardrums? ¡°What?¡± ¡°You know! I¡¯m¡ªwell, I¡¯m glad I¡¯m not dead. I¡¯m glad I¡¯m not¡­nothing, but¡­¡± ¡°But what?¡± Ward cleared his throat and squeezed her hand. ¡°Can you speak a little louder?¡± ¡°But I¡¯m not right! I¡¯m sure Grace told you! Can you feel my skin? It¡¯s cold! I struggle to find the heat with my Gopah forms, whereas before, it was effortless! My eyes¡ªWard, I stared at myself in the mirror for an hour last night. They¡¯re different. Paler. I can see something moving behind them, but only when I start to look away! If I stare, it never shows itself.¡± ¡°Yeah, okay, but you¡¯re you!¡± Ward wanted to get up. He wanted to rip the bandage off his eyes and look at her. He wanted to stare into her eyes and tell her nothing was wrong. All he could do was continue to squeeze her hand and say, ¡°I can tell that much. You sound like you. You¡¯re not a monster or something like that. You slept, right? Did you eat anything?¡± ¡°Yes. I slept and I ate, but I wasn¡¯t very hungry. There¡¯s something else¡­¡± When she didn¡¯t continue, Ward sighed and shook his head. ¡°I¡¯m in the dark here, Haley. Literally. What is it?¡± ¡°I¡¯m stronger than I should be. I lifted you onto Nutmeg. You¡¯re not a light man, Ward.¡± While Ward absorbed that fact, she continued. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I don¡¯t want to make you feel bad or worried. I¡¯m so upset that you nearly died to help me! The thing is¡­Well, the thing is, that¡¯s part of the problem. I feel things differently. I feel upset and sad, but I¡¯m struggling to find anything to be happy about. I just want to cry or sleep or crawl into a hole and disappear!¡± She finished with a choked-off sob and tried to pull her hand away.Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. ¡°Do something, Ward!¡± Grace cried. ¡°She can see and hear me, but she can¡¯t feel me. I can¡¯t hug her!¡± ¡°No¡ª¡± Haley started to protest, but Ward tugged on her arm, and she fell, with very little resistance, against his chest, and he pulled her tight, wrapping his stiff, sore arms over her back. She curled up there, her cheek on his shoulder, and softly wept. Ward tried to soothe her, uttering nonsense phrases like ¡°it¡¯ll be all right¡± and ¡°hush now¡± while he stroked her short, feathery hair. After a while, she grew still, and her breathing evened out into very slow, steady breaths. Too slow? Despite his worry, her chest rising and falling served to hypnotize Ward, and he, too, fell into a deep sleep. When he woke, Haley was gone, and he could see light through the bandages on his eyes. ¡°Mmph,¡± he grunted, lifting a sluggish arm behind his head to try to prop himself up a little. He felt like he weighed a thousand pounds and that the planet was trying to pull him down into its depths. ¡°You slept for another day,¡± Grace said, and her voice was much clearer than the last time he¡¯d been awake. Had he been awake? The whole thing felt like a dream. ¡°Are we alone?¡± he murmured. ¡°We are. Haley¡¯s running errands¡ªchecking the horses, etcetera. She slept here for quite a few hours, though, and when she got up, she seemed a little better. You know, when she was talking to you, I realized what was throwing me off about her: she just seems very grave¡ªno pun intended. Like, never a smile. She wasn¡¯t lying about her eyes, either. When I saw them earlier, I mean before you fully passed out¡ª¡± ¡°Grace, can you let me wake up.¡± Tired of being in the dark, Ward reached for the bandage over his eyes and began tugging. Grace slapped at his hand, but he scowled and gave the bandages a yank. ¡°Idiot!¡± she growled, trying to slap her palms over his eyes. Ward shoved her aside, rolling onto his shoulder and blinking, squinting into the pale light coming through the window. ¡°They work,¡± he grunted, holding out a hand to fend her off. She harrumphed and folded her arms over her chest. ¡°I guess it¡¯s been almost two days.¡± Ward continued to blink, silently praying that the blurriness would fade, and, to his relief, it did. ¡°Get me a warm washcloth or something.¡± ¡°You know I can¡¯t!¡± ¡°Jesus, my bladder¡¯s about to burst.¡± Ward groaned as he slid his legs off the side of the bed and hesitantly took his feet. He felt shaky, weak, and sluggish, but he managed to stay upright. A few minutes later, after a very long time standing over the tankless, porcelain toilet, he stared at his face in a mirror. He looked like he¡¯d been in bed with the flu¡ªlike he¡¯d been puking his guts out for days or been beaten and left for dead. His cheeks were gaunt; his eyes were sunken in dark hollows and completely blood-red in the scleras. Ward touched the yellowing bruises on his cheeks, around his eyes, his neck, and even his forearms. ¡°What the hell?¡± To his surprise, Grace didn¡¯t say anything; she¡¯d stayed out of the bathroom for once. Had the spell done all that damage? He had no idea, but he had to assume so. ¡°Unless Haley and Grace beat the shit out of me while I was knocked out.¡± The idea brought a chuckle out of him. He grinned into the mirror, examining his teeth, and that¡¯s when he remembered the tongue. ¡°Gah!¡± He stuck it out, and relief flooded him when he saw it wasn¡¯t pointed or forked. It looked like a normal tongue, only¡­silver. ¡°Frickin¡¯ weird,¡± he grumbled, watching it move as he licked his teeth. He went back to his bed and collapsed, utterly exhausted. ¡°Why do I feel like I¡¯ve been in a six-month coma?¡± ¡°Because you almost died!¡± He scanned the room and saw his pack at the foot of the bed. With a herculean effort, he stood and dug through it until he found the hemograph. ¡°Guess we might as well see what this tongue did to me.¡± He stuck his finger into the hole, felt the stab of the needle, and then watched the glowing liquid shift around until the weird shapes formed into his reading: Previous reading detected ¨C Earlier values displayed in Brackets Bloodline: Awakened Human ¨C Aetherborn Traces, Lycan Traces, [Unknown] Traces Accumulated Mana: 0 [134] Mana Distribution: Natural ¨C No Allocation Enchantments Detected Mana Well: Tier 3 ¨C 35% [33%] to Next Tier, Enhanced Regeneration Minor Mana Sensitivity: Tier 4 ¨C Bloodline Dependent Mana Pathways: Tier 5 [Tier 2] ¨C Bloodline Dependent, [Unknown] Artifact Influence Detected Vessel Capacity: Tier 2 ¨C Bloodline Dependent Vessel Durability: Tier 2 ¨C 59% [56%] to Next Tier, Enhanced Healing ¨C Minor, Enhanced Bone Density - Minor Vessel Strength: Tier 2 ¨C 45% [44%] to Next Tier Vessel Speed: Tier 2 ¨C 49% [41%] to Next Tier Longevity Remaining: 55% [65%] ¨C Tier Two Depletion Rate (Approximate) Anima Heart: Tier 1 ¨C Closed, Pathways Detected Anima: Nil Grace, peering over his shoulder, hissed, ¡°Jesus, old man, you burned up ten percent of your life with that near-death business.¡± Ward grunted, nodding, but then he pointed at his ¡°mana pathways¡± reading. ¡°The tongue is boosting my mana pathways by three tiers.¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± For some reason, Grace whispered as she pointed. ¡°It doesn¡¯t know how to identify the tongue. ¡®Unknown.¡¯ I think you need to find a better hemograph. Anyway, I mean, we don¡¯t know what ¡®tier five¡¯ versus ¡®tier two¡¯ even means, but my intuition says it¡¯s a big deal.¡± ¡°Yeah, I don¡¯t think that spell, even though it almost killed me, was something I should be able to pull off at my, uh, level.¡± ¡°Bringing the dead back to life?¡± Grace cocked an eyebrow. ¡°You think?¡± An almost tentative knock sounded at the door, and Ward looked up, closing the hemograph¡¯s lid. ¡°Who is¡ª¡± ¡°It¡¯s me,¡± Haley said as she pushed the door open a few inches. ¡°Can I come in?¡± ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m not naked.¡± When she came through the door, Ward immediately recognized the material of the hooded cloak she wore; it was the magnificent, dark blue silk they¡¯d won in the catacombs. ¡°Nice cloak!¡± ¡°There¡¯s a seamstress off the square. I needed something to keep the sun off my face; I seem to be much more sensitive than I used to be. I hope you don¡¯t mind that I used the material from¡ª¡± ¡°It¡¯s yours! We agreed.¡± He nodded, trying to reassure her, but she looked tentative as she stepped closer. The cloak shrouded her entire body, held closed at the neck by a polished ivory clasp carved to look like a rose. From within the shadows of its hood, her face was largely obscured, but Ward could see her eyes, and he began to understand why Grace and Haley had both mentioned them; they were striking¡ªpale gray discs that seemed to gather and reflect the light. ¡°Can you see in the dark?¡± he blurted. ¡°I can see¡­more than I used to be able to.¡± She nodded at Grace but then quickly changed the subject, ¡°I¡¯m glad to see you¡¯re up and that you aren¡¯t blind. When I saw your eyes, I thought¡­¡± She trailed off, and Ward gestured to the rickety table and two wooden chairs. ¡°Sit a while?¡± ¡°Of course. You should eat, though, Ward. You look like you¡¯ve lost twenty pounds.¡± Ward snorted. ¡°Lost more than that.¡± Haley looked at Grace. ¡°What does he mean?¡± ¡°His brush with death took some years off his life.¡± When Haley grasped her head in her hands, Grace hurriedly added, ¡°Don¡¯t worry! He¡¯ll gain them back as he gathers mana.¡± ¡°Yep. Just another thing we¡¯ve gotta figure out on our way.¡± Ward grunted as he forced himself to stand up again. ¡°On our way?¡± He shrugged. ¡°Onward. Onward and upward, Haley. I¡¯m sorry I used that dodgy spell to bring you back, but it was the only thing we could think of. I promise you, though: we¡¯re going to find a way to help you. We¡¯re going to find a way to put a smile back on your face.¡± Haley stared at him from the shadows of her hood for a long moment, unblinking. ¡°Don¡¯t make promises you can¡¯t keep, Ward.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not. Listen, we both need to figure out how to get some anima back¡ª¡± Ward froze midway through digging some clean clothes out of his pack. ¡°Hey! How¡¯d you lose your anima?¡± Something made him look at Grace, glowering. Grace¡¯s eyes went wide. ¡°I didn¡¯t¡ª¡± she began to object, but Haley spoke over her. ¡°It wasn¡¯t Grace, Ward! She told me about what happened with your anima, and, well, I¡¯m too ashamed to give you the details about what happened to mine. I¡¯ll give you the short version, though. Do you remember when you joined Nevkin and me in the chamber with the elevator?¡± ¡°Yeah, of course.¡± ¡°Well, before that chamber, didn¡¯t you find a refinement potion?¡± ¡°Yeah¡­¡± Haley¡¯s cowl moved up and down as she nodded. ¡°And before that chamber, what did Nevkin find?¡± By way of answer, Ward jerked a thumb at his mouth, indicating his silver tongue. ¡°Exactly. Well, I was faced with a puzzle. Each stage of its solution offered me a choice¡ªplay a game of chance or ¡®pay¡¯ for the solution. I paid. Seven times. At the eighth and final stage, I had to play the game of chance; it said I couldn¡¯t ¡®pay¡¯ anymore. I rolled an ivory die, and I lost. The reward chest disappeared, and a ladder descended. I climbed up, and that¡¯s how I got to the elevator chamber.¡± ¡°So the catacombs took your anima, and you got nothing?¡± ¡°Yes. I knew I was giving away something, but I must profess my ignorance about precisely what I was giving up. Now I know.¡± ¡°That¡¯s a goddamn raw deal,¡± Ward growled. He glared at Grace. ¡°Worse than your damn uncle.¡± Grace nodded. ¡°It is, but I think it¡¯s a hopeful sign.¡± Ward yanked a clean shirt from his pack, irrationally angry after hearing yet another way Haley had been mistreated. ¡°How¡¯s that?¡± ¡°You said yourself¡ªthe catacombs had a sense of fairness. The challenges the place presented all had a solution or a warning or¡ª¡± She shook her head. ¡°I¡¯m getting off track. The point is, I don¡¯t think ¡®they¡¯ would take something irreplaceable without a much clearer warning.¡± Ward slowly nodded. ¡°I can get on board with that idea.¡± He turned to Haley. ¡°We both need to find out how to get our anima back. Along the way, or afterward¡ªhowever and whenever it happens¡ªwe¡¯ll find out how to help you feel¡­better.¡± Haley didn¡¯t smile, but her eyes glittered brightly as she asked, ¡°Promise?¡± Ward¡¯s grin returned, broader than ever. He tucked his bundled clothes under one arm. ¡°Hah! You changed your tune already, see? Yeah, I promise. Now, let me get a bath, and then let¡¯s head out. We¡¯ll stop by Nevkin¡¯s hideout to look for whatever secrets that little bastard was hiding, but then I want to put some miles between us and this village. Haley shook her head, though her hood moving was the only indication¡ªher body was perfectly still. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Ward, but we won¡¯t find anything at the Graymane Estate. The mayor says some of the servants went back and burned it to the ground after they heard Nevkin was gone.¡± ¡°Ah, dammit.¡± Ward sighed, shaking his head; his dreams of finding another grimoire were dashed before they had much chance to form. ¡°Well, let¡¯s take a look anyway. It¡¯s on the way out of town.¡± Haley¡¯s eyes tracked him as he took another step toward the bathroom. ¡°Where will we go?¡± ¡°I dunno. Port Granite?¡± ¡°Ward,¡± Grace cut in, ¡°with what you¡¯ve gained, absorbing that, um, tongue, I think you and Haley should move on to the next world.¡± Haley¡¯s voice was hushed as she asked, ¡°Springsea?¡± Grace nodded. ¡°That¡¯s the next world, right? The closest, too, if I remember right.¡± Ward paused, leaning on the bathroom door. ¡°Do you mean ¡®next¡¯ as in, the challenges there¡ª" ¡°Are supposed to be a little harder than on Cinder.¡± Grace jumped up from the bed and leaned close to Haley. ¡°With better prizes, too! Do you know where we go to get passage?¡± Again, Haley¡¯s cowl bobbed up and down. ¡°I suppose we¡¯d take a steamer from Port Granite to Westview. That¡¯s the closest living ship port. It¡¯s so expensive, though!¡± Ward shrugged. ¡°Maybe we¡¯ll find something to sell along the way. We might have to do a little adventuring. Now, if you¡¯ll excuse me¡­¡± He trailed off as he stepped into the bathroom and closed the door behind him. A wave of vertigo struck him, and blackness encroached on his vision, forcing him to lean forward, gripping the edge of the sink. He lifted his head, staring into the mirror, and looked himself in the eyes. They were crimson from the burst vessels, and in the hollows of his dark, bruised eye sockets, they looked like the eyes of a monster. His cheekbones and jaw stood out sharply on his gaunt face. ¡°You look like shit, old man.¡± ¡°I think you look tough.¡± Ward turned away from the mirror to smile at Grace. ¡°At least you¡¯re being nice as you invade my privacy.¡± ¡°We¡¯ve got to work together if we¡¯re going to help Haley¡ªif we¡¯re going to help ourselves.¡± ¡°Ourselves?¡± ¡°Well. I don¡¯t know, Ward. Maybe you like having me in your head, but maybe there¡¯s a way to get me my own life¡ªa way to help me not be a leech.¡± Ward turned to face her, sudden understanding blooming in his mind. ¡°That¡¯s what this whole thing has been about, hasn¡¯t it? I mean coming to Vainglory. You¡¯re trying to find a way to¡ª¡± Grace interrupted, leaning close, her eyes intense as they locked onto his. ¡°Not have to use other people? Not be forced to live through the experiences of my host? Be allowed to exercise some free will? Yeah, of course, I wanted to go someplace better than Earth. I mean, as far as this kind of stuff goes. It wasn¡¯t all selfish, though; you really were going to die! I think this system is good for you, too.¡± She paused, clearly struggling to come to grips with her sudden bout of honesty. ¡°Are you going to hold it against me?¡± Ward shook his head, smiling as he straightened up, testing to see that the vertigo was gone. ¡°Nah. I guess I¡¯m proud of you, Grace. I don¡¯t think honesty comes easy to you. Let¡¯s keep it up, all right?¡± She grinned, her sharp canines glinting in the lamplight. ¡°That¡¯s a deal, old man!¡± 2.1 Secrets 1 ¨C Secrets Ward kicked his boots through the ash, stirring up some still-hot embers. ¡°Huh. I thought maybe the mayor was exaggerating. You know, trying to keep us away.¡± The Graymane estate had, apparently, gone up in flames the same night that Ward killed Nevkin. The mayor was blaming the former employees, and they were blaming the warlock¡ªsaying he¡¯d been careless in the way he¡¯d piled logs near the hearth. Of course, that was something the workers would be responsible for in usual times, but most of them had fled when Nevkin killed Lord Graymane. ¡°There¡¯s a lot left standing, though.¡± Haley peered up at the blackened rafter beams and scorched stones. Her voice wasn¡¯t exactly hopeful, but Ward was pleased that her words hadn¡¯t sounded defeated. He was starting to see what Grace meant about her always being deeply serious¡ª¡°grave,¡± as his less-than-welcome passenger had put it. ¡°Look!¡± Grace cried, her excitement sufficient to carry the mood. Ward followed her slender arm and finger with his eyes and saw what she meant. Saddlebags, burned black by the fire, were piled in the corner atop the ashes and charred remains of what looked to have been a small table. ¡°Maybe something survived! That¡¯s thick leather.¡± Ward grunted his acknowledgment. The truth of the matter was that he was already feeling like going back to the inn and lying down for a while. It wasn¡¯t just the injuries he¡¯d sustained from casting a spell far too potent for his body and mind¡ªthose were mostly healed. It was the after-effects he was dealing with. The healing wrought by the magical tonics, tinctures, and creams had taken a toll on his flesh. He¡¯d dropped at least twenty pounds and felt like he¡¯d been bedridden for weeks, not just a couple of days. Grace was sure he¡¯d feel better with a bit of time and some mana absorption; he hoped she was right. Ward stepped toward the blackened leather bags, frowning. ¡°Doubt anything survived.¡± Grace practically vibrated with excitement as she pushed past him, leaning close. ¡°You just don¡¯t want to get your hopes up.¡± ¡°Yeah, I suppose. I don¡¯t doubt that his spells were here. He was racing back like a lunatic when he attacked us.¡± He turned to Haley, ¡°Nothing was on his body?¡± ¡°Nothing much. A belt pouch with a few glories. I picked up his knife and my sword. His horse had a saddle¡ªno bags.¡± Ward squatted near the bags and gingerly pulled them close, frowning at the way the burned leather crumbled under his fingers. Still, they felt heavy; something was inside. As he used his knife to pry the stiff, black leather flap open, slicing through the old strap and buckle, he heard Haley ask, ¡°Why don¡¯t you wear shoes?¡± ¡°Ask him,¡± Grace replied, leaning close to stare at Ward¡¯s slow progress. ¡°Ward?¡± Haley pressed. ¡°Hell if I know what she¡¯s talking about.¡± He had the first saddlebag open and was sifting through burnt scraps of cloth¡ªa blanket or some clothing, perhaps. Grace tsked. ¡°He¡¯s lying, but he doesn¡¯t know he¡¯s lying. I look like I do because somewhere in his twisted little mind, he fancies a gal like this.¡± ¡°That¡¯s some grade-A bullshit,¡± Ward snorted, grinning as his knife touched something solid. ¡°I don¡¯t have a foot fetish.¡± He brushed the ashes and burnt cloth aside and gripped the heavy object, lifting it out in a shower of ash and scraps. ¡°What the hell?¡± What he gripped in his hand was a heavy metal container about the size of a tissue box, sealed with something like molten lead or pewter. ¡°Shouldn¡¯t that seal have melted in the fire?¡± ¡°Careful, Ward!¡± Grace hissed. ¡°Look at those runes on the top.¡± Ward brushed the ashes away and saw what she meant. Jagged symbols were etched into the metal, and they looked very foreboding; he had no idea why he thought that¡ªhe couldn¡¯t read a single one, but something about them said, ¡°Danger,¡± with a capital D. ¡°It¡¯s heavy.¡± He turned and held it out for Haley, and she took it in her hands, peering at it with her strange, pale-gray eyes that seemed to catch and reflect any light in the room. ¡°I think it¡¯s holding something inside¡ªthe seal, I mean. I don¡¯t think it¡¯s meant to keep people out. You should leave it sealed until we learn more.¡± ¡°Yep. I¡¯ll cast my ¡®reveal secrets¡¯ spell on it later.¡± Ward dug around in the other saddlebag but only turned up scraps of burned paper, cloth, and ash. ¡°Well, it¡¯s something. I suppose his spells are gone¡ªburned up with the house.¡± He sighed, brushing his hands together as he stood. ¡°I¡¯d hoped for something more. I guess it was a longshot; if the servants really did torch the place, they probably looted anything they thought was valuable.¡± Grace nodded. ¡°Spells are valuable, Ward.¡± ¡°Do we wanna stick around this little village, interviewing peasants who have no reason to trust us, though?¡± ¡°Why not use your spell here?¡± Haley interjected. ¡°If someone deliberately burned the place, wouldn¡¯t that be a ¡®secret¡¯ that it might reveal?¡± Ward thought about it for a moment, then he nodded. ¡°All right. Let me go outside to prepare it; I don¡¯t want to get covered in ash.¡± He led the way out, pushing through the remnants of the once-grand double doors, now blackened and hanging from twisted, loose hinges. When he stepped into the sunlit courtyard, he inhaled deeply of the fresh air and walked over to Nutmeg. ¡°Hey, boy.¡± He rubbed his muzzle as the horse snuffled at him. ¡°I¡¯ll give you an apple in a minute. Let me just fish something out of my saddlebag.¡± A few minutes later, Ward was sitting on a relatively clean section of pavers, going through the strange half-dance, half-meditation ritual to imprint the words of power into his mind. It was the first time he¡¯d looked at a spell since he¡¯d nearly killed himself by bringing Haley back from¡­beyond. He still wasn¡¯t clear on how that whole thing worked. If her spirit or soul didn¡¯t have the anima to move through the ¡°veil,¡± then where had it been while her body lay lifeless? Haley claimed no memory of her time beyond the living, but Grace thought she¡¯d been lingering nearby¡ªa formless mass of feelings and thoughts that wouldn¡¯t have survived long on this ¡°plane.¡± If all the spell had done was move her back into her body, he supposed it wouldn¡¯t have been so powerful and had such an effect on her and Ward. It had done more, though; it had healed and changed her body. It had affected her demeanor in ways they were just starting to figure out. The spell had been rife with warnings, and one had said that her body would be ¡°infused with a power that dwells in the twilight between life and death.¡± It explained the healing, but Ward wasn¡¯t sure they were interpreting ¡°power¡± correctly. He hoped it was just a description of the magical force used in the spell and not some kind of entity. He wanted Haley to be all right, which made it hard for him to be objective. Grace startled him out of his reverie. ¡°What are you doing?¡± ¡°Got distracted, I guess. I¡¯m still a little foggy.¡± ¡°Well, I¡¯m the one who said you should rest another day. Maybe you shouldn¡¯t do this spell right now¡ª¡± ¡°I¡¯ll be fine. Let me prepare it, and then I¡¯ll know if it¡¯s going to hurt or not.¡± He was hoping it wouldn¡¯t. The silver tongue he¡¯d taken from Nevkin had significantly increased the ¡°tier¡± of his mana pathways. He¡¯d been on the verge of being able to cast the ¡°reveal secrets¡± spell without hurting himself before he got the tongue, so now he had high hopes that it wouldn¡¯t be difficult at all. Before he got started, he glanced around the courtyard. ¡°Where¡¯s Haley?¡± ¡°Still inside. I think she¡¯s poking around, looking for anything else that might not have burned.¡± Ward almost told Grace to go keep an eye on her but remembered she couldn¡¯t; she was bound to him and could only experience the world through his senses. Determined to make it quick, he opened his grimoire to the right page and began moving through the forms and reciting the words of power for his spell. He found his center quickly, and, listening to and feeling the thud of his heart, he timed the spell¡¯s forms to the steady beat. When he looked up, Haley was there, speaking softly to Grace.This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. ¡°¡­nothing but ruin.¡± Ward closed his eyes, and in the darkness of his mind¡¯s eye, he saw the words for the spell floating, throbbing, and yearning to be released. They were dark, wreathed in shadows and mystery, but they no longer looked dangerous to him. Where before they¡¯d seemed sharp, jagged, and even scalding, now they were just secretive¡ªfilled with the mystery of things unknown. ¡°I can cast it.¡± Haley looked away from Grace, peering from the depths of her deep hood; she didn¡¯t like to be in the sun without the hooded cloak she¡¯d had made. ¡°Hmm? Was there any doubt?¡± ¡°Nah. What I meant was that I can cast it without hurting myself.¡± Ward brushed his pants off and straightened his thick wool coat. As he did so, his eyes drifted over the neat, perfect stitches where Haley had mended it as he¡¯d lain unconscious. She¡¯d done a fine job; the thread was nearly the same color as the wool, and the needlework was precise. ¡°Thanks again for fixing this, Haley.¡± ¡°You¡¯re welcome. I¡¯m only sorry I didn¡¯t get your spear.¡± Ward shrugged. ¡°I can get a new one.¡± Haley had been in a hurry to get him some medical help on the night they¡¯d confronted Nevkin and hadn¡¯t retrieved his spear from the poor dead stallion. When they¡¯d come to the burned-out manor, the horse¡¯s corpse, along with the spear, had been gone. Ward turned back to the house and walked inside. When he stood in the burned remains of the central hall, he glanced over his shoulder at Haley. ¡°Might want to plug your ears.¡± She nodded solemnly and reached her hands into her hood. When she nodded again, Ward looked into his mind and recited the words floating there, ¡°Shrovak gnyrath!¡± They whirled into motion, streaming from his mind to his tongue, where they flowed like water from a crystal decanter, smooth as could be. As soon as the sound of them entered the world, though, the smoothness faded as they echoed and cracked off the burned stone walls. They whirled around, stirring up ash, reverberating and building off themselves into an echoing crescendo that had Haley leaning forward, pressing her hands hard against the sides of her head. Soon, the echoes receded, and Haley lowered her hands. Ward watched as the stirred ash coalesced into faintly luminescent figures¡ªtwo men, one with long, wild hair, the other wearing a thick woolen cap. Both were dressed like laborers in heavy boots, overalls, and warm, long-sleeved woolen shirts. ¡°Orchard workers,¡± he grunted. They seemed harried, or perhaps just hurried, as they moved about the room, moving ghostly chairs and tables, opening drawers, and flinging objects from shelves. Finally, one stood in the corner where Grace had spied the burned saddlebags. ¡°Here!¡± he cried, though his voice seemed to come from a deep tunnel, a second or two after his lips moved. The other man joined him, rushing over eagerly. They threw the bags open, rifling through the stuff inside. One man lifted a heavy, jingling pouch and crowed, ¡°Glories!¡± The other hefted out a heavy, leatherbound volume adorned with inlaid runes that glinted in the ghostly light of the fire in the hearth. ¡°A spellbook! Imagine what they¡¯d pay in Port¡ªAck!¡± His words were cut off as he screamed, staring at his hand as it began to smoke. ¡°It¡¯s burning! I can¡¯t let go!¡± Wide-eyed with panic, he looked at his companion, dancing back, away from the saddlebags. ¡°Help!¡± The other man, the one with the wool cap, snatched up a tattered shirt from the saddlebag he¡¯d been digging through and used it like a potholder to grab the book away from his friend, eliciting a panicked scream of pain in the process. He didn¡¯t hold the book; he flung it away¡ªstraight into the fireplace. ¡°Dead gods! My hand!¡± the wounded fellow moaned. ¡°C¡¯mon, Tem, we got the glories; let¡¯s get out¡ª¡± With a whistling pop, something exploded in the fireplace, interrupting the specter¡¯s voice. Both men turned to the hearth to see sparks shooting forth, erupting like a pyrotechnic display. Little ghostly fires began to spring into existence around the room, and both men turned and fled. ¡°Those idiots,¡± Grace sighed as the ethereal light faded from the ashes, and they fell to the floor like they¡¯d never been disturbed. The gloom that had shrouded the room while the spell was active faded, and sunlight streamed in through the burned-out roof. Ward walked over to the fireplace, and sure enough, he saw the remnants of a blackened, charred leather book cover. The pages were nothing but ash. ¡°Dammit.¡± Haley stepped close, peering with him into the hearth. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Ward.¡± He saw she had her hand inside her cloak, resting on the hilt of her father¡¯s sword. They¡¯d yet to figure out exactly how the sword worked, but it seemed to absorb spells aimed in its direction. He nodded and wrapped an arm over her shoulders, squeezing her into his side. ¡°At least those spells aren¡¯t in someone else¡¯s hands.¡± Haley allowed the embrace and even leaned into him a little, but she didn¡¯t feel the same. She was stiff, and Ward inwardly wished he hadn¡¯t made the show of affection¡ªnot because he didn¡¯t care about her, but because he¡¯d hoped to feel some warmth from her. All he¡¯d accomplished was to remind himself of the reality that she was changed. ¡°Can you cast the spell again?¡± she asked, unaware of his inner turmoil. Ward looked into his mind, saw the spell there, faint but ready, and nodded. ¡°Yeah. Let¡¯s go back out to the courtyard.¡± He let go of Haley and returned to the sunlight. ¡°You got the¡ª¡± His question became redundant when Haley joined him, holding the metal box in her hands. As he looked at it, steeling himself to cast the spell again, Grace asked, ¡°Do you think it¡¯s worth hunting those workers down? That pouch of glories looked pretty heavy.¡± ¡°Nah.¡± Ward brushed some lingering ashes from the metal box, noting that the thing felt like it had been stored in a refrigerator, even with the sun beating down on it. ¡°I¡¯m not looking to hunt down some peasants and strongarm ¡®em for glories that weren¡¯t even mine.¡± ¡°By right of conquest, they were¡ª¡± ¡°No, Grace.¡± He nodded to Haley. ¡°Set it down so you can cover your ears.¡± ¡°Oh!¡± She hastily set the box on the paver near Ward¡¯s feet and stepped away, once again, reaching her hands into her hood. Ward took a deep breath, stared at the metal box, and then released the words, ¡°Shrovak gnyrath!¡± They rushed off his tongue, rich and deep, echoing around the courtyard as dust, blown ash, and fall leaves rushed around, rustling in the sudden breeze. The light dimmed as though dense clouds had blown in front of the suns, but when Ward looked up, he could still see them in the sky. The two stars had lost their fiery intensity, though; they glowed more like moons. ¡°Look!¡± Grace pointed to where shadows were gathering near the ancient wrought-iron gate of the courtyard. They glowed with weird, blue luminosity, and as they took shape, Ward realized one was a grave marker and the other was a man. As they solidified and the details filled in, Grace hissed, ¡°Nevkin!¡± Sure enough, the figure was clad in a dark, tattered robe adorned with black feathers. He clutched a small spade and grunted as he dug, the sounds echoing oddly in the suddenly dim courtyard. ¡°I hear you. I hear you whispering. I¡¯ll have you out of there!¡± Nevkin cackled as he continued to dig. ¡°He¡¯s mad,¡± Haley observed. ¡°Yeah, but we knew that already.¡± Ward stepped closer, watching the scene play out. He already knew what was going to happen: Nevkin would dig up the metal box. He leaned close, trying to read the strange script on the rectangular gravestone. The words made no sense to him. ¡°Can you read that?¡± Grace shook her head. ¡°If I could, you could, too.¡± ¡°Why is that?¡± Haley asked. Grace smiled at her. ¡°I have a gift of tongues, which carries over to my host.¡± Ward ignored her, turning to Haley. ¡°You can¡¯t make sense of it?¡± ¡°No. Never seen that language.¡± Nevkin giggled and spoke again, ¡°Oh, such promises! Of course, of course! We¡¯ll have many a long chat!¡± The shovel made a clanking sound, and he cackled, falling to his knees and scrabbling at the moist dirt madly with his hands. He panted and dug for several seconds before he pulled the metal box from the dark soil. ¡°Here you are!¡± he crowed. As suddenly as they appeared, the strange shadows faded, and the glare of the midday sun returned. It wasn¡¯t lost on Ward that Haley tucked her arms into the folds of her silky, deep-blue cloak. Grace groaned. ¡°Ward, why¡¯d you choose that secret? I wanted to know what was in the box, not where Nevkin got it.¡± ¡°You think I choose? I just cast the spell, and it shows what it shows.¡± Ward stooped to pick up the box and walked out the gate, clicking his tongue and scratching Nutmeg¡¯s neck as he tucked it into one of his saddlebags. ¡°I guess we¡¯re not going to learn anything about this thing today. I mean, other than it coming from a strange grave and that Nevkin thought it was talking to him. Anyway, if we¡¯re going to make it to Children¡¯s Crossing before dark, we need to get on the road.¡± Haley pulled herself into Wind Queen¡¯s saddle. ¡°I agree¡ªwe should go. Children¡¯s Crossing tonight, then a few days of hard riding, and we¡¯ll reach Port Granite. There might be someone there who can tell you more about the box, Ward. It¡¯s a much larger place than Tarnish.¡± ¡°And if not,¡± Grace added, ¡°there¡¯s always Westview and whatever city we land on when we travel to Springsea.¡± Ward shook his head, spitting some phlegm that had gathered in the back of his throat onto the cobbles. ¡°Grace, take it one step at a time. We don¡¯t even know how much the passage on a living ship will cost. Let¡¯s concentrate on getting to Port Granite.¡± With that, he clicked his tongue¡ªsomething that made him cringe as it echoed resoundingly, reminding him of his new, magical appendage¡ªand Nutmeg broke into a trot, clip-clopping down the cobbled drive past the scene of his battle with Nevkin. He was glad to be done with the strange Warlock, but he still had many questions, not least of which was what had made him go mad. The tongue didn¡¯t seem to be affecting Ward¡¯s mind, but would he even know if it was? To his delight, Haley interrupted his inner turmoil by racing past on Wind Queen, shouting, ¡°Try to keep up!¡± She didn¡¯t laugh, but her voice sounded far brighter than he¡¯d heard it since their encounter with Nevkin. He hoped it was a sign of things to come, that maybe she¡¯d slowly find her old self. Then Grace was there, in the saddle behind him, nudging his ribs. ¡°Let¡¯s go!¡± Ward grinned and clicked his new tongue again, and Nutmeg broke into a gallop. 2.2 Trogs 2 ¨C Trogs Ward looked down the long, winding dirt road toward the distant horizon, where he could see the walls of Port Granite sprawled against the azure backdrop of the Cobalt Sea. He only knew so much because Haley had just explained it to Grace and him. ¡°And Westview is on the far shore?¡± Haley nodded. ¡°Yes. I don¡¯t know how long it takes to get there, but I imagine it¡¯s no quick jaunt.¡± Ward stretched, twisting in the saddle. He was weary, but he felt pretty good overall. They¡¯d spent a relaxing night at Children¡¯s Crossing, stocked up on food for the road, and then taken a leisurely, four-day pace toward Port Granite, stopping at two other inns and camping on the road one night. Ward had eaten like a teenager, and, in his opinion, he¡¯d pretty much recovered from his ordeal with the spell that had nearly killed him. Of course, the hemograph disagreed. According to the cryptic device, he was still down roughly ten percent from his former ¡°longevity.¡± ¡°Tired?¡± Haley asked. Ward glanced at her, nodding. She¡¯d shown remarkable stamina, and despite his attempts not to, Ward had spent too much time studying her behavior. She ate sparingly, usually only meat, and slept only a few hours a night. Still, she didn¡¯t seem like any kind of ¡°undead¡± he¡¯d ever heard of. She breathed, she did eat, and though she was sensitive to the light, she didn¡¯t burst into flames in the sun. He¡¯d been over it a million times in his head, but the only undead creatures he knew about were from books, movies, and games. He just wished he could go back in time and tell Grace not to mention the damn word to him. ¡°I could use a rest. How far do you think that is?¡± He waved a hand toward the distant city and blue horizon. Grace answered before Haley got a chance, ¡°Looks like less than twenty miles. We made good time despite your lollygagging.¡± Ward rolled his eyes and winked at Haley. ¡°You see what I deal with?¡± Haley smiled, though it looked forced, as she nodded. ¡°I like Grace, but your banter makes much more sense now that I can hear you both.¡± ¡°I like you too, Haley!¡± Grace was, as usual, riding behind Ward, and she leaned in the saddle to say in hushed tones, ¡°You know, I¡¯m the one who talked Ward into casting that spell. If it weren¡¯t for me¡ª¡± ¡°Grace, put a sock in it,¡± Ward grumbled. ¡°Maybe she¡¯s tired of thinking about all that.¡± To his surprise, Grace didn¡¯t argue. She leaned against his back and, more seriously, said, ¡°Sorry, Haley. I shouldn¡¯t bring it up.¡± ¡°It¡¯s fine¡­¡± She didn¡¯t get to say more before Ward clicked his tongue and started down the hill at a trot. The city was distant, but the road was broad and flat, and he could see dozens of other travelers strewn along its ribbon-like length. He was eager to be done with the saddle for a while and intended to give Nutmeg a chance to stretch his legs. He leaned forward over the sturdy gelding¡¯s neck and quietly urged him on. ¡°Let¡¯s go, boy!¡± Nutmeg did his best to keep the lead, but they¡¯d only been thundering down the dirt road for about thirty seconds before Wind Queen came up, and Haley passed them by. The young woman leaned forward, her cloak flapping behind her while the beautiful mare¡¯s mane whipped in the breeze of her passage. Nutmeg whinnied in frustration, and Ward could feel him digging deeper, trying to keep up, but the other horse was just too fast. ¡°It¡¯s not your fault!¡± Ward laughed. ¡°I¡¯m a lot heavier than she is!¡± They raced like that for a good fifteen minutes, and Ward lost sight of Haley as she rounded a curve in the road harboring a stand of tall, broad-leafed trees. When he came around the bend, he saw her ahead, stopped, and chatting with a man on a tall, steam-powered, brass and iron wagon. ¡°Woah, fella!¡± Ward chuckled inwardly at his sudden cowboy vernacular. He pulled Nutmeg, snorting and huffing, to a walk and came up beside Haley and the man in the wagon. She gestured to the stranger, ¡°Ward, this is Lon Garrison, and he says there¡¯s a woman up the way who needs help.¡± Ward squinted up at the fellow, shading his eyes from the sun. He wore a wide straw hat and had something stuffed in his cheek that made Ward think of a ball player with a wad of tobacco. ¡°Someone needs help?¡± ¡°That¡¯s right! I told her I¡¯d flag down anyone that I saw. Her daughter¡¯s gone missing, and she¡¯s convinced it¡¯s a pack of trogs that¡¯ve been living up in yonder hills.¡± Ward raised his eyebrow, not sure he liked the sound of ¡°trogs.¡± ¡°How long¡¯s she been gone?¡± ¡°What about the guard?¡± Haley asked at the same time. ¡°Her husband left to fetch the guard a half-hour ago, but he was afoot, hoping to catch a ride with someone going ta¡¯ market. Even if he¡¯s just got there, they won¡¯t move too quickly. You know how them city guards are.¡± He spat a thick, viscous, brown squirt of saliva that confirmed Ward¡¯s earlier suspicion. ¡°As for the girl, her ma said she ain¡¯t seen ¡®er since breakfast when she sent her out to check on the goats.¡± Haley turned to look at Ward with those pale eyes of hers, but there was something new in them, something that almost looked like excitement. ¡°We should help!¡± Ward could have cheered at the sound of purpose in her voice. He really didn¡¯t care what the problem was; he would have gone to help find a lost cat if it would get that sort of interest from her. ¡°Will we see her from the road?¡± ¡°Aye, just about half a mile up the way. She¡¯s hoping someone helpful will stop by, not an old codger like me with a knee that won¡¯t bend half the time.¡± He lifted his stiff leg by way of illustration, and Ward nodded. ¡°I¡¯ve had a bad knee before. No fun. Anyway, we better get moving if we¡¯re going to be any use. Every minute counts.¡± He clicked his tongue, and Nutmeg immediately started moving. To Ward¡¯s amusement, so did Wind Queen, and Haley had to scramble to get her reins in hand. ¡°Do you guys think this is smart?¡± Grace asked as Haley rode up beside him. ¡°Smart¡¯s got nothing to do with it,¡± Ward grunted. ¡°That¡¯s right. A girl needs help, Grace. You wouldn¡¯t want someone you cared about caught by trogs.¡± ¡°No¡­¡± Grace sounded ashamed, and Ward wished he could see her face. ¡°You¡¯re right, Haley. I¡¯m sorry.¡± He looked at Haley. ¡°What the hell is a trog? Do I want to know? Is that short for troglodyte?¡± ¡°Savage creatures!¡± she said, nodding emphatically. ¡°They¡¯re humanoid, but not people, trust me! They¡¯re cannibalistic, have big fangs and long arms, and they wear the skins of anything they kill, including people! A traveling circus came through Tarnish once, and they had one. They kept it chained and threw live chickens to it as a kind of show. I only saw it for a minute before my auntie covered my eyes and pulled me away.¡± Haley sighed from within her hood. ¡°I¡¯d shudder, I¡¯m sure, if I weren¡¯t so damned unnatural.¡± Ward looked at her sharply, ¡°Hey!¡± He pulled on his reins, and Haley followed suit, slowing the horses to a near stop. ¡°It¡¯s true, Ward. I¡¯m not right. I have to tell myself that this is exciting. I have to remind myself that I should feel horrified for that girl.¡± ¡°Haley¡­¡± Grace started to speak, but her voice faded. Was she at a loss for words? Ward found it hard to believe. ¡°Listen,¡± he said, ¡°I don¡¯t know what exactly changed in you from that spell, but Haley¡¯s still in there.¡± He reached over and grabbed her wrist, pulling it toward him. ¡°Look at me.¡± She resisted at first, staring down at her saddle horn. After a moment, though, she turned toward him, staring out from the depths of her hood. Ward locked eyes with her. ¡°You¡¯re still you, in there, Haley. If you have to remind yourself what that means from time to time, then do it. The more you practice, the easier it¡¯ll get. Sooner or later, you¡¯re going to feel what you know you should feel without even trying.¡±This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. ¡°Do you really believe that?¡± she asked. Ward nodded. ¡°I do. You were affected by death and by the magic that brought you back, but you¡¯re still you, and your spirit is too damn strong to get changed forever. Just keep remembering how you know you should be, okay? I think that¡¯s important. Don¡¯t let it slip away.¡± She ducked her head, and when she looked up, her eyes were determined. ¡°I won¡¯t, Ward. I¡¯ll keep reminding myself.¡± ¡°Attagirl.¡± Ward smiled and then nodded up the road. ¡°See that woman waving at us? You were right to want to help her. Come on!¡± He nudged Nutmeg with his bootheels and clicked his tongue, and the horses both leaped into motion. Soon, they were rolling in a smooth canter toward the woman who kept waving the entire time they approached. In his right ear, away from Haley, Grace whispered, ¡°That was very well done, Ward. I hope you¡¯re right. You sounded so sure. Do you really believe it?¡± Ward didn¡¯t reply, but he tilted his head in the affirmative. Grace squeezed him around the ribs¡ªWard hated how she could shift position around him in an instant. Then he pulled on the reins, and he, Haley, and the huffing, snorting horses were before the woman. She was short, stocky, with long, salt-and-pepper gray hair. She didn¡¯t look old, though; her hair was just graying early. ¡°Thank you for stopping! My daughter¡ª¡± Ward tipped his hat up and smiled, waving his hand. ¡°We got the story from the guy on the steam wagon.¡± He pointed behind her, past a big, yellow farmhouse, toward the hills beyond. ¡°You really think trogs have your girl?¡± ¡°There¡¯s a pack of ¡®em up there, sir! They took a goat last week, and my husband made a report to the sheriff down in Port Granite. They¡¯re supposed to hunt ¡®em out soon, but¡ª¡± Ward nodded. ¡°Okay, listen, keep looking for help, but point us in the direction where your goats graze. That¡¯s the last place your daughter was, right?¡± ¡°Yes! Oh, thank you, sir!¡± She made a funny gesture, curling her hand into an O and pressing it to her forehead. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t have thought a sorcerer would stop to help the likes of me. Thank you, sir!¡± She turned to Haley. ¡°Thank you, milady.¡± Ward just nodded, but Haley opened her cloak to reveal the hilt of her sword. She put her hand on it and asked, ¡°How many trogs, do you think?¡± ¡°My husband said he was sure he saw five different sets of tracks. He said one was an alpha, ma¡¯am, twice the size of t¡¯others.¡± She turned and pointed to the left of a big gray barn. ¡°The track my daughter takes is just yonder, past the barn. You can¡¯t miss it; it¡¯s worn deep from the goats. There¡¯s a meadow about a mile up the track. It¡¯s bordered with berry brambles, and the goats just love it up there.¡± ¡°How old is she? What¡¯s her name?¡± Ward found his fingers reaching for his old notepad and suddenly wished he had one handy. ¡°My Rini¡¯s just fifteen, sir.¡± ¡°All right. If your husband gets back with the sheriff¡¯s men, make sure you let ¡®em know we went up there.¡± ¡°I will, sir! Thank you so much!¡± The woman had been wringing her hands nervously, but now she reached up toward Ward as though she wanted to squeeze his hand. He stretched down from the saddle and took her small, hard-calloused hand in his. ¡°We¡¯ll do what we can.¡± Ward straightened and pointed to a gap in the fence a bit further on. ¡°Let¡¯s go, Haley.¡± He clicked his tongue, and Nutmeg started forward. Soon, he and Haley were trotting over the field, past the barn, and onto a narrow dirt trail leading into the hills. ¡°Can you track?¡± Grace asked. ¡°If not, you should know I¡¯m quite good at it.¡± ¡°Good.¡± Ward didn¡¯t elaborate on the fact that he hadn¡¯t hunted in more than twenty years. He didn¡¯t doubt that he could spot clues that might lead him to the trog lair, especially if they weren¡¯t exactly geniuses, but he was happy to let Grace do the tracking. As they followed the meandering track through the hills, he dug into his saddlebag and pulled out the knife Haley had taken from Nevkin. Ward had enchanted it and his other bowie-style knife when they¡¯d stayed in the inn at Children¡¯s Crossing. ¡°Two knives against at least five trogs?¡± Grace asked, leaning over his shoulder. ¡°Two knives and Haley. Yeah, I wish I had another weapon, though.¡± Ward turned to speak over his shoulder to Haley. ¡°Let¡¯s stop for a minute so I can put my armor on.¡± The leather coat with its heavy metal rings was a decent piece of armor, but it was uncomfortable, so Ward preferred to ride in just his wool coat. Haley nodded. ¡°I want to run through my forms quickly.¡± ¡°Right. Good idea.¡± Ward pulled on the reins, bringing Nutmeg to a halt, then shrugged off his coat. The air was chilly but not overly so. The sun was high in the sky, and the weather had been nice. He dug his armor out of the pack he had slung beside his saddlebag, grunting as he worked it on over his head and shoulders. Once he was done, he sat, scanning the hillsides, waiting for Haley to finish going through her strange martial arts dance. After just a few minutes, she nodded, her cheeks slightly flushed, and leaped into her saddle. ¡°I only went through them once, but I don¡¯t want to keep her waiting¡ªtrogs are nasty creatures, Ward. I¡¯m not sure we can take five. What if there are more? If five were out hunting, there might be more in their lair. Do you think there¡¯s any chance this girl is still alive?¡± Ward lifted his hat from his saddle horn and settled it on his head. ¡°I have no damn idea. I hope so. Maybe they¡¯re eating the goats first.¡± ¡°Are your spells prepared?¡± Grace asked. ¡°Yeah.¡± Ward nudged Nutmeg, and the horse started forward. ¡°Can¡¯t be much further.¡± When they reached the meadow, it was evident that the goats had been there for a while. The yellowed grass was chewed down to the dirt, and the berry brambles were also well-trimmed back into a wide gully between two hills. Still, it wasn¡¯t hard to see what had gotten Rini¡¯s father running toward town for help¡ªthe bloody, skeletal remains of a goat sat in the center of the clearing, and all around it were deep, clawed, four-toed footprints. Looking up the hillside leading further south, Haley observed, ¡°I don¡¯t think it¡¯ll be hard to track them.¡± Ward followed her gaze and had to agree; the tracks were deep, but beyond that, the tell-tale drips and splashes of blood provided a bright reminder of the situation''s urgency. ¡°I¡¯m guessing they live in a cave?¡± ¡°That¡¯s how the story always goes.¡± Haley touched her heels to Wind Queen¡¯s flank, and the horse started up the hill, following the trail of clawed prints. Nutmeg followed at Ward¡¯s urging, but the horse was acting skittish, his ears swiveling left and right as he snorted. Haley glanced over her shoulder. ¡°The horses don¡¯t like the blood.¡± ¡°They going to be all right?¡± Ward patted Nutmeg¡¯s neck. ¡°Easy, boy.¡± Haley peered up the sides of the hills; they were growing taller, and the foliage along their slopes thicker. ¡°They¡¯ll be fine if the blood doesn¡¯t get much worse. Unless we¡¯re attacked, I suppose. Neither of them are trained for combat. If they come at us, we should let the horses run so we can get clear and then circle back.¡± ¡°All right.¡± Ward studied the ground as they made steady progress over and around small hills, and soon, they were in the shadow of a deep gully. He scanned the hillsides, wary of ambush, trying to peer through thick scrub and short but densely leafed trees. ¡°Look,¡± Grace said, reaching past him to point. Ward followed her finger to a dark spot high on the slope to his left. ¡°Hold up, Haley. There¡¯s a cave up there.¡± Haley slid out of Wind Queen¡¯s saddle and began rummaging through a saddle bag. ¡°I¡¯ve got a decent lantern.¡± Ward got off Nutmeg and stretched while Grace walked around the horses, staring at the ground. ¡°I believe that¡¯s where they were headed.¡± She looked at Haley. ¡°You should leave the horses loose so they can run.¡± ¡°I agree. I¡¯ll not have Wind Queen become a trog¡¯s dinner.¡± Ward frowned at his saddlebags and pack. He loathed the idea of leaving all of his belongings unwatched. He unslung his backpack, ensuring the mana-well and his grimoire were inside, then, grunting with the effort in his ring mail armor, slung it over his shoulders. ¡°C¡¯mon.¡± Without further delay, he started up the slope, using rocks, roots, and clumps of dry, yellow grass as footholds. He could hear Haley moving behind him, her steps far softer than his as he laboriously hauled his heavy frame, armor, and pack up the hill. ¡°On the bright side,¡± Grace said, daintily traipsing beside him, ¡°I don¡¯t see much cover on the way to that cave. I doubt they¡¯ll¡ªLook out!¡± Ward had already seen the missile coming¡ªthat¡¯s how Grace knew about it. He ducked his shoulder, and the rock sailed past him. He heard Haley grunt as she hit the deck. Ward scrabbled over behind a clump of wiry brush with tiny green leaves and peered up the slope at the figure that had emerged from a difficult-to-see depression in the hillside. It looked like a man¡ªa twisted, hairy, gray-skinned man with too few fingers, inch-long black claws, and red eyes set in deep hollows beneath a heavy, bony brow. It hooted, scooped up another fist-sized rock, and hurled it. Ward rolled to his left, and the stone whistled through the air, smashing through the branches of the bush he¡¯d been hiding behind. ¡°You need to close with it!¡± Grace shouted. ¡°No shit,¡± Ward grunted, getting his feet underneath him and charging up the slope, aiming for a large rock halfway between him and the trog. He was still three steps away from cover when the next rock came whistling through the air. Ward dove for it, and the stone just missed him as he slid on his chest behind the boulder. He glanced over his shoulder to see Haley also hunkered behind a clump of big rocks about twenty feet to his right. She saw him looking and nodded. Ward poked his head up, just for a second, to get a look at their aggressor, and the creature howled and threw another rock. Ward ducked and waited for it to sail past, and then he was up, knife out, charging for the creature. He took two steps, crouching as he went, fighting the slope, and nervous about being hit with a follow-up stone, but the trog didn¡¯t pick up a rock; it hefted a sharpened length of wood and spread its too-wide mouth into a savage, hungry grin, exposing dozens of pointy, saliva-slick teeth. ¡°Not a good look, Ward,¡± Grace said. ¡°He¡¯s got the slope, the reach, and¡ª" ¡°Not helping, Grace,¡± Ward growled, moving around the trog to the left, hoping he could get it to expose its flank to Haley. That was when he heard the rustling in the brush, and another of the monsters came barreling down the slope, this one wielding a heavy, gnarled branch as a club. ¡°All right,¡± Ward sighed. ¡°Here we go.¡± He flipped his knife, catching the point between his fingers, and lifted it to throw. ¡°Catch, asshole!¡± 2.3 Ambush 3 ¨C Ambush The enchanted knife whipped through the air and took the second trog right in the eye. It didn¡¯t even yelp as it fell to the ground, sliding down the slope for several feet in the loose rocks and dirt. The first trog reacted violently to the death of his comrade. He¡ªfor Ward had been granted an unpleasant glimpse of his anatomy beneath his ill-fitting hide smock¡ªbegan to hoot and howl cacophonously, his voice echoing off the hillsides as he went wild. He leaped down the slope toward Ward, flailing his sharpened stick madly. Ward danced to his left, Nevkin¡¯s knife now in his hand, crouching low, trying to keep his footing on the slope. The trog was fast approaching, and Ward thought about throwing the knife, considering it was also enchanted. He could see Haley creeping up behind the enraged trog, though, her father¡¯s sword in a two-handed grip high over her head. Ward stooped, grabbed an apple-sized rock, and chucked it with his left hand, underhanded, toward the creature¡¯s face. It roared and swiped at the missile, and then Haley¡¯s sword cleaved the crown of his skull, and the trog fell at her feet, dragging her off balance as she tried to work her father¡¯s sword free. Haley slid onto her butt, grunting as she kicked at the trog¡¯s shoulder and yanked on the sword. Ward was about to go to her aid when he saw movement up at the cave mouth. ¡°More coming, I think!¡± he shouted. He scrabbled up the slope to the dead trog¡¯s fallen spear, picking it up with his left hand as he fumbled with Nevkin¡¯s curved knife, trying to slide it under his belt. By the time he¡¯d gotten a sure grip on the primitive spear and looked up the hillside again, two more trogs had emerged and were working their way down the slope, still some thirty or forty yards distant. ¡°What¡¯s the plan, old man?¡± Grace sounded worried. Ward ignored her and held the spear in front of his face, ¡°Ghruvon, Truvik, Prakhun!¡± The words rolled off his new tongue like a delicate prayer, but they began to echo sharply as soon as they entered the world. He heard Haley¡¯s intake of breath, saw the trogs clap their hands to their ears, and then the spell slammed into the spear, carving glowing runes into the wood that blazed for a moment and then faded. Ward didn¡¯t wait for an invitation; he pulled the spear back over his shoulder and hauled it forward in a vicious javelin throw. The imperfect shaft wobbled in the air as the magic forced it to fly true, ripping through the air so fast that it whistled before slamming into the left-hand trog¡¯s chest. It coughed out a rough, pained cry and flopped back. As its legs kicked and its clawed hands scrabbled in the scree, the other trog roared, lifted what looked like a stone hatchet, and renewed its downward scramble. ¡°Ward!¡± Haley called, and he turned to see her holding a massive trog at bay¡ªit had to be the alpha. The monstrous humanoid looked like it weighed three or four hundred pounds, and its roars and grunts were visceral things¡ªdeep hollow noises that Ward could feel in his chest like a bass subwoofer. If Haley weren¡¯t so nimble, with her blue cloak flowing behind her as she leaped out of the way of the creature¡¯s enormous sapling-sized club, she would have been utterly shattered by the blow. When the weapon impacted the hillside, Ward felt it in the soles of his boots. ¡°Run!¡± he yelled. Then, without thinking, he yanked Nevkin¡¯s knife out of his belt and threw it at the hulking, gray-furred trog. The alpha was wearing several layers of hide, but Ward had thrown the blade well, aiming toward the back of his head, and the enchantment had the desired effect¡ªthe tip caught in the monster¡¯s thick rolls of fleshy fat at the base of his skull and the weapon might have driven deep enough to bring the beastly creature down, but the curve ruined things; it ended up slicing up and out, leaving a deep, ugly gash, but not killing the brute. It was enough to distract and further enrage the trog, however. ¡°You¡¯ve done it now!¡± Grace cried. ¡°Look out for the other one!¡± Ward turned just in time to see the other trog closing the last few yards between them, its stone-bladed hatchet held high, its face twisted in a rictus, snaggle-toothed snarl. Ward, empty-handed, turned to his left and charged toward a thick snarl of thorny shrubs. He held his armored sleeves before his face as he crashed into the stiff branches, and the hauberk earned its price, sparing him from many cuts and bruises as he bullied his way through. He¡¯d just won clear and was scanning the ground for something he could use as a weapon when something smashed into his shoulder, sending him stumbling forward. Ward grunted in pain, but his armor had held; he¡¯d have a bruise but nothing much more. As he stumbled, he scooped up a grapefruit-sized rock and continued, keeping his forward momentum going as he scrambled up the hillside. He could hear the smaller trog behind him, grunting and growling as it kept pace, but Ward had other things to focus on. He looked at the big rock in his hand, and, still driving with his thighs, climbing the slope, he said, ¡°Ghruvon, Truvik, Prakhun!¡± As the words rolled out and echoed around him, he grinned and laughed. He took two more wide, muscle-burning steps up the hillside, then turned, holding the rock high. The trog had paused, shaking its head as though to clear the echoing words of power from his mind, and Ward capitalized, hurling the ten-pound rock with all his might. The ¡°strike true¡± spell proved itself yet again, or, Ward supposed, he just scored a perfect throw. Whatever the case, the rock caught the brute in the forehead and cracked its thick skull like a cantaloupe. Ward could hear the alpha smashing through the brush, could see his enormous head and shoulders surging overtop the thorny bushes, and he dove for his latest victim¡¯s stone-bladed hatchet. ¡°Can you cast it again?¡± Grace asked, her voice rising hysterically. ¡°I think so. I did before.¡± It was true; even before he had the tongue, he¡¯d cast ¡°strike true¡± three times before he couldn¡¯t remember the words. The hatchet had a rough, root-like handle that fit his hand well enough but seemed too heavy and unbalanced. Was it petrified wood? He didn¡¯t know, but he was glad it was heavy, and the blade seemed sharp enough. He could see it was fastened to the handle with dried sinew and had time to wonder just how intelligent the primitive creatures might be before he snapped out of his contemplation and said, ¡°Ghruvon, Truvik, Prakhun!¡± For the third time, the spell echoed around the gully, and Ward saw the enraged trog alpha flinch at their sound. The creature¡¯s eyes were red and wild with madness. It roared, baring a mouthful of fangs, and ripped its way out of the patch of thorny brush. Its hairy arms were torn and bleeding; its mouth drooled as it gnashed its teeth and growled. Somewhere along the way, it had dropped its enormous club, but Ward wasn¡¯t heartened; the thing had claws like knives, and with its hands empty, it was scrabbling on all fours up the hillside, rapidly closing the distance. Ward lifted the now-enchanted stone-bladed axe, eyeing his surroundings for a plan of action. He didn¡¯t think he could take the brute in a head-to-head confrontation. ¡°This way!¡± Grace said, indicating a relatively flat area to Ward¡¯s right. He nodded but held his ground, trying to time things right. The trog cleared the distance and reared up, lifting its arms high as though it intended to rake all six of its claws down on Ward, ripping him to ribbons. Before it could bring its claws down, though, Ward darted forward, hacked the heavy axe at the monster¡¯s muscle-bound knee, and before he even felt the impact, dove toward Grace, aiming to roll over his shoulder. The axe, enchanted to do great damage, cleaved through flesh, sinew, and bone, nearly removing the monster¡¯s entire lower leg. It screamed, Ward dove, and, as the trog fell, it reached out and hooked three of its long, deadly-sharp claws into Ward¡¯s calf, stopping him short.If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Ward cried out; the pain as the claws tore his flesh, halting his entire body weight mid-air, was nearly blackout-inducing. The creature didn¡¯t stop there, either. It tightened those claws in a fist, securing its grip on his lower leg as it pulled itself forward with its other long, muscular arm. Ward growled, more angry than scared now. He still held the axe in his hand, and he contracted his core, pulling himself into a sit-up as he swung it back and down, chopping it halfway through the alpha trog¡¯s wrist. Again, it screamed and reflexively slapped at the axe with its other arm, knocking it out of Ward¡¯s hand. The beast¡¯s grip had loosened when Ward cleaved its wrist, and he pulled away, scrabbling backward through the dirt and loose rocks, panting in pain with each kick of his wounded leg. The alpha was still enraged, still trying to give chase, but two of its limbs weren¡¯t working right, and its maddened mind was struggling to realize why. Ward scanned his surroundings, looking for something he could use as a weapon¡ªa branch, a rock, anything. He¡¯d settled on a fist-sized rock and reached toward it when Haley appeared over the trog¡¯s shoulder and drove her sword into the center of its back. It screamed and thrashed, but Haley pulled the blade free and drove it in again. This time, the monstrous creature retched a torrent of blood and fell, quivering, onto its chest. Haley stabbed it two more times before it finally fell still. ¡°Jesus! Where can I get a tetanus shot?¡± Ward groaned as he pulled his knee to his chest, turning it to see his mangled calf. Grace leaned close. ¡°You need a few stitches, but you¡¯ll survive.¡± ¡°A few? That bastard had ahold of my bone!¡± As he pressed his palm against the oozing gashes, he looked at Haley and saw she was standing atop a nearby boulder, slowly turning in a circle and scanning the area. ¡°Anything?¡± ¡°Nothing moving.¡± She looked down at him, her eyes glinting from the depths of her deep hood. ¡°Do you have some salve in your pack?¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± Ward grunted, his breathing shallow from the throbbing pain in his leg. ¡°I think so.¡± He gingerly lowered his leg and worked to get his pack off, wincing as his bruised shoulder protested. Before he even had one arm out, though, Haley was there. ¡°What pouch?¡± ¡°On the side. My, uh, left side.¡± Haley was quick to dig the jar of salve out. It was one she¡¯d brought from Tarnish. She unscrewed the cap and squatted by his leg. ¡°Can you pull the pant leg up?¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± Ward did so, hissing through his teeth as the fabric brushed his cuts. Haley liberally scooped the cream out of the jar, rubbing it into his deep puncture wounds. ¡°Keep an ear open for more trogs.¡± ¡°Oh, God. That feels better.¡± The throbbing had almost immediately ceased as the cool cream went to work. ¡°Let me bandage this, then you¡¯ll be okay to limp around for a bit. When we get to an inn, I¡¯ll stitch you up.¡± Haley screwed the cap on and returned it to his pack, rummaging in the same pouch until she pulled out a length of off-white linen¡ªanother of her purchases. Ward held still as she wound the bandage around his calf. Then, with a surprisingly strong hoist from Haley, he was back on his feet. ¡°Let¡¯s get up to that cave.¡± Ward stepped up onto a clump of brush grass, but then Grace cleared her throat. ¡°Ahem! You might want this.¡± Ward turned to look and saw she was standing over his hat. ¡°Oof.¡± Ward wiped a hand over his sweaty brow, then nodded. He limped over and retrieved the wide-brimmed hat, happy to have the bright glare of the sun out of his eyes. ¡°Didn¡¯t notice it coming off in all the scuffle.¡± ¡°I¡¯m surprised it got this far! The way you charged through those thorn bushes¡­¡± Haley sighed, shaking her head. ¡°I was afraid I¡¯d catch up too late.¡± She walked back over to the alpha¡¯s corpse and grunted as she yanked his knife out of the thing¡¯s neck. Ward watched as she wiped it on the creature¡¯s fur, then walked over and handed it to him. ¡°Thanks, Haley.¡± He clutched the weapon in a blood-stained hand, feeling comforted by the leather-wrapped grip. She gave Ward an appraising glance, then nodded. ¡°I¡¯ll go scout the cave opening. Take your time and choose your steps carefully.¡± ¡°Hey¡­¡± Ward was about to tell her to be careful, but a glare from Grace stilled his tongue. ¡°I¡¯ll be right behind.¡± Haley nodded, and then she turned and lithely scampered up the hill. ¡°She makes you look like a garbage truck. You know, those big, automated ones that take up the whole road and hold up traffic when people need to get¡ª¡± ¡°All right, all right,¡± Ward groaned. ¡°Give it a rest, would ya?¡± Grace smirked but relented, and Ward began laboriously clambering up the hill. Nearly ten minutes later, sweating from the effort and the renewed pain in his leg, he ducked into the dark, crescent-shaped opening, his knife held ready, only to find Haley grunting, leaning over, backing toward him. It took him a confused moment to realize she was dragging someone. ¡°You found her!¡± Haley turned, and her eyes shone like a cat¡¯s as she looked toward the light. ¡°She was just up ahead past those piled boulders. They¡¯d thrown her there, I think, along with two dead goats. She¡¯s got a huge lump on her head, but she¡¯s still breathing.¡± Ward started struggling out of his pack. ¡°Let¡¯s put some salve on the bump. It probably won¡¯t help if she¡¯s got a brain bleed, but¡­¡± He shrugged, trailing off. It went without saying that it was all they could do for her at the moment. As he fished out the jar of salve, Haley pulled the girl closer to the opening, and Ward saw for himself that she had a massive, purple contusion on the side of her head, just past her temple. ¡°They probably knock their prey out if they can. Keeps the meat from spoiling.¡± ¡°Yeah. The goats were already partially butchered. Well, eaten¡ªI don¡¯t think they exactly have a kitchen.¡± ¡°No, uh, sign of any others back there?¡± ¡°Nope. I think we killed the whole pack.¡± Haley took the salve and gently smeared it onto the lump on the girl¡¯s head. She had to smooth her hair back, and Ward watched as she dug a tiny copper hairpin out of a pocket somewhere, gently putting it into the girl¡¯s blonde hair, pinning it back behind her ear. ¡°You¡¯re going to be all right, Haley,¡± he said, leaning against the stone cave opening. She looked back at him, and for the first time since Nevkin, her lips moved into a genuine smile. ¡°Thank you, Ward.¡± He looked into her eyes and gave her a quick nod, then turned to look down the slope. From that vantage, he could see a much more accessible, smoother trail leading down off to the left, behind a copse of short, thorny trees. Further down, near the base of the hill, he saw Nutmeg and Wind Queen, and beyond them, the valley opened up, green and lush, all the way to the distant blue line of the sea. ¡°There¡¯s an easier path down, but I don¡¯t think we¡¯ll make it to the city before dark.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not scared of the dark,¡± Haley said, grinning. Her words made Ward chuckle, but the clever comment also made him wonder where Grace was. He turned to peer into the cave but didn¡¯t see any sign of her. His voice was almost tentative when he softly called out, ¡°Grace?¡± ¡°Did you miss me?¡± Her voice came from right behind him, and Ward flinched, eliciting a chuckle from Haley. ¡°Dammit,¡± he growled. ¡°You¡¯re lucky you made Haley laugh ¡®cause otherwise, you¡¯d be back on my shitlist.¡± Grace beamed, moving around Ward to look at the girl, watching Haley¡¯s ministrations. ¡°I was here¡ªjust relaxing inside your head. You should carry the girl, Ward. Keep her head up so blood doesn¡¯t rush to her head. She might have a bad concussion.¡± Haley shook her head. ¡°No, I can carry her. I¡¯m strong enough, and I¡¯m not injured.¡± She bent, swinging the girl¡¯s arm over her neck, then, cradling her back and knees, Haley smoothly stood. She smiled at Ward. ¡°See?¡± ¡°Damn! After you.¡± When Haley started down the hill, Ward followed, and Grace skipped along beside him. ¡°I¡¯ve been thinking.¡± Ward raised an eyebrow, pausing to slide the curved knife under his belt. ¡°Oh?¡± ¡°Wow! No jokes? Anyway, I think it might be interesting to see what the hemograph says about Haley.¡± Ward opened his mouth, then closed it again with an audible click. He frowned, scratched his head, then slowly nodded. ¡°Yeah. I can¡¯t believe we didn¡¯t think of that before now.¡± ¡°Well, to be honest, I did.¡± Grace shrugged, then in a much quieter voice, she whispered, ¡°I was afraid it might say something¡­disturbing.¡± ¡°But now?¡± ¡°Now, I have more hope. She really does seem better.¡± Ward nodded, watching Haley march down the hill, cradling the teenager in her arms; he figured the girl had to weigh at least a hundred pounds¡ªnot an incredible feat of strength, but definitely not easy. Haley wasn¡¯t exactly large. ¡°Yeah. We¡¯ll ask her what she thinks tonight. Right now, I want to drop this girl off and get my ass to town.¡± ¡°You did good, Ward. Lots of thinking on your feet in that fight. I liked how you enchanted a rock in the middle of a battle.¡± Grace giggled as Ward snorted, but he didn¡¯t have a clever response, so he just shrugged. Despite his sore leg, he felt good. It was nice to help people, and it really seemed like this world had plenty of folks in need. With that warm, fuzzy thought keeping a grin on his face, he tried to pick up the pace; Haley was leaving him behind. 2.4 Good Beer 4 ¨C Good Beer ¡°Oh, mate! That¡¯s the thing about Vainglory; it¡¯s all in the name¡ªyou¡¯ll find glory, sure, but seeking glory for its own sake is a fool¡¯s errand. It¡¯s something you do in ¡®vain,¡¯ see? Your buddy made that mistake! He bit off more than he could chew, went a bit mad with his pursuit of power, and now, where is he? It¡¯s a tale repeated so often that they named the whole system after it!¡± Ward glanced sideways at Grace, who, unbeknownst to the tavern patron he¡¯d been talking to, also sat at the table. She shrugged, and he knew what she was thinking¡ªshe¡¯d only repeated what she¡¯d read about Vainglory. Any misinformation wasn¡¯t her fault. He looked at the grizzled old fellow, noticed his beer mug was running low, and topped it off with the pitcher. ¡°That¡¯s why they call this place ¡®Vainglory,¡¯ huh?¡± ¡°Aye. Every child born in this world is raised up on the tales of folks seeking glory for glory¡¯s sake and meeting with folly.¡± The old timer paused to take a drink, and Ward considered his words. They didn¡¯t exactly mesh with what Haley had told him. Hadn¡¯t she said she¡¯d grown up reading stories about great heroes taking on the challenges and climbing the ranks of power? ¡°There¡¯s a good reason you don¡¯t run into many sorcerers, sir, begging your pardon,¡± he ducked his chin and touched his forehead in a gesture Ward had come to realize meant a person was being respectful, ¡°but more folks with the touch wind up dead than powerful.¡± Grace leaned her elbows on the table and spoke loudly over the clamor of the tavern, ¡°Ask him if there are more sorcerers on the higher worlds.¡± Ward nodded, shifting his mug on the tabletop, pleased that he¡¯d found an establishment that sold chilled beer. He watched the glass smear the condensation into the well-worn wood, contemplating his words while the old shipwright gulped about half his mug down. ¡°As you know, I¡¯m not from these parts. I was a little surprised by how few ¡®with the touch¡¯ I¡¯ve run into. Are there more on the higher worlds?¡± The old fellow¡ªBrant¡ªrubbed the foam off his mustache and nodded. ¡°Oh, aye! That¡¯s how the story goes, but I ain¡¯t never been off Cinder. Still, I¡¯ve spoken to plenty of travelers, and they all tell the same kind of story: you¡¯ll find more of the orders and academies on the higher worlds. You¡¯ll find mages and sorcerers in every city and witches in the villages, but if you shake a stick at a crowd on Primus, you¡¯d still struggle to come up with more than one or two with a glow in their eyes.¡± Ward nodded, sipping his beer and enjoying the lively atmosphere while Barnt savored his drink. Ward had already treated him to three refills. He glanced out the window and across the street to the inn where he¡¯d left Haley; after they¡¯d delivered a groggy, concussed Rina to her sobbing, grateful mother, they¡¯d made good time to Port Granite, arriving just an hour after sundown. One of the guards at the gate had suggested the inn¡ªPort¡¯s Refuge¡ªand while checking in, Ward had heard the noise, smelled the fried foods, and seen the happy crowd across the street. The place had called to him in a way that he hadn¡¯t felt in a long while, but when he voiced his interest, Haley hadn¡¯t been interested. She¡¯d seemed fine, insisting she just wanted a quiet soak in the tub, so he¡¯d dropped his things in the room with her and made his way over. The tavern was crowded, too much so for him to get his own table, and that¡¯s how he met Brant. ¡°You reckon we¡¯ll have any trouble booking passage to Westview?¡± ¡°Nah! There¡¯s a ship heading that way every couple of days.¡± Brant burped loudly and added, ¡°Can¡¯t promise it¡¯ll be a passenger ship, but if you don¡¯t mind doing a little labor, there¡¯ll be a place for you on a cargo vessel.¡± Ward mulled that over, picturing himself mopping the deck or mending ropes¡ªclich¨¦s from a dozen movies. ¡°Doesn¡¯t sound bad. How about the living ships? I heard passage off-world doesn¡¯t come cheap.¡± ¡°Well, aye, that¡¯s another story. Them ships are mighty uncommon, and each voyage is booked up for years in advance. You¡¯ll find folks in the city selling berths, but they know they¡¯ve got something precious.¡± ¡°It makes sense,¡± Grace said, eyeing Ward¡¯s beer. Ward grinned and took a long drink of the cold, smooth ale. It tasted particularly nutty, and after the day he¡¯d had, it was almost too good. He saw Grace lick her lips, and when she caught him looking, he was pleased to see her blush. ¡°What? I can¡¯t help it! It¡¯s good. Take another drink!¡± Ward¡¯s smile widened, and he complied, draining the rest of the mug. Grace sighed happily and laid her head in her arms, closing her eyes as she practically purred. He set the mug down and smiled at Brant. ¡°Damn good beer.¡± Brant laughed, exposing his crooked, gap-toothed smile, and Ward found himself laughing, too, so much so that he had to wipe tears from his eyes after a couple of minutes. He and the old timer chatted for a while more about all manner of things¡ªboats, horses, trogs, and, after another couple of beers, the nature of death and the purpose of life. If they uncovered any great secrets, though, Ward doubted he¡¯d remember. Still, in his drunken state, he felt like he and Brant were on to something. Sometime around midnight, a watchman came to stand in the open double doors, holding a large iron bell in his hands. To Ward¡¯s dismay, he began to violently clang it back and forth, interrupting the drinking and carousing to shout, ¡°Curfew! Everyone needs to be home by hour¡¯s end! Anyone still on the streets will be fined or jailed!¡± To summarize, he clanged the bell a dozen more times, wringing forth grumbles, curses, and even a few thrown hunks of food. Ward didn¡¯t envy the watchman, but he also didn¡¯t like the idea of a curfew. ¡°There¡¯s a curfew?¡±You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author. ¡°Aye, two hours past midnight. Mayor says it cuts down on crime.¡± Brant pushed his chair back and, with great effort, heaved himself to his feet. ¡°I¡¯d best be off¡ªquite a stroll back to my place.¡± He held out a hand, and Ward clasped it, shaking it warmly. ¡°Nice to meet you, Ward. Thanks for buying an old board-cutter a beer¡ªor ten.¡± He laughed, his cheeks bright red from all the drink, and Ward almost asked if he needed an escort home. ¡°It¡¯s nothing. Nice to meet you, Brant,¡± was all he said, though. He watched the fellow stumble toward the door, but he wasn¡¯t alone; half the tavern was clearing out. Ward looked at Grace and her glazed-over eyes and chuckled. ¡°Are you really drunk?¡± ¡°I can let myself feel what you feel.¡± Her words slurred, and she laughed, leaning forward to poke a long, slender finger into his chest. ¡°You¡¯re drunk!¡± Ward shrugged, unable to deny the accusation. ¡°I think I like you better like this.¡± Grace leaned closer, and the fire in her eyes nearly died to nothing as burgeoning tears filled them. ¡°I wish we¡¯d gotten off on a better foot. I wish I hadn¡¯t lied to you, and I wish you knew that I¡¯m not a scheming, evil creature. I really do care about you and Haley.¡± She sounded so sober and honest, and her words rang so true that Ward almost felt himself tearing up in sympathy. He played it off, shaking his head and clearing his throat. ¡°Hey, come on¡ªlet¡¯s try to make a clean start. You came clean to me about why you wanted to be in Vainglory; you admitted you didn¡¯t know as much as you let on. I can forgive all that. Is there anything else you wanna confess while I¡¯m feeling so magnanimous?¡± He stumbled on ¡°magnanimous,¡± slurring the syllables together, and Grace giggled. ¡°There¡¯s nothing else I¡¯ve been dishonest with you about. I mean, nothing about what I¡¯m doing with or for you.¡± She frowned. ¡°I¡¯m still, well, I still have secrets, but they¡¯re about me, okay?¡± Ward shrugged. ¡°When you trust me, I¡¯ll be ready to hear ¡®em.¡± Ward scooted his chair back, suddenly aware of how much the room was spinning as he watched more patrons moving to the exit. ¡°Wait!¡± Grace reached out and grabbed his wrist. ¡°I do trust you, Ward. I¡¯m just ashamed, but you¡¯re making me feel good about myself. I liked that we helped that girl today. Can we keep doing the ¡®right¡¯ thing?¡± She made air quotes around ¡°right.¡± Ward snorted, using the table to help himself stand. ¡°Yeah, we can. I¡¯ll sure as hell try. I¡¯m not perfect, you know.¡± ¡°Okay.¡± Grace leaped to her feet and put herself under Ward¡¯s arm, helping to steady him. ¡°We¡¯ll try together.¡± With that said, she helped him out into the chilly air, which sobered Ward slightly, and then across the street and into the inn. A few minutes later, he quietly crept into the room he and Haley were sharing¡ªit had two beds and a separate bathroom. He found his sneaking unnecessary; Haley was up, sitting in bed, wearing some gray, flannel pajamas, writing in a small journal. She looked up with an arched eyebrow, her pale eyes glinting in the lamplight. ¡°You¡¯re drunk.¡± Ward doffed his hat and bowed with a stumbling flourish. ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am.¡± ¡°Haley, can you start the bath for him?¡± Grace propelled him to his bed, urging him to sit on the edge. Haley closed her journal and stood. ¡°I can. I was waiting up to stitch his leg, but I think a bath would be wise. There are some salts in there. I¡¯ll put them in his water.¡± ¡°Oof,¡± Ward grunted as he bent to struggle out of his boots. ¡°Sorry about that, Haley.¡± ¡°About?¡± ¡°About making you wait up! I forgot about the stitches. Can it wait ¡®til morning?¡± ¡°Probably, but I¡¯m awake.¡± With that, she went into the bathroom, and Ward heard the pipes clank and moan before the sound of water filling the tub came to his ears. He stripped down to his linen underwear with Grace prodding him along the way, and then he stumbled into the bathroom where Haley was adjusting the faucets. ¡°It¡¯s hot, but not too hot.¡± Grace pushed Ward toward the tub. ¡°Thanks, Haley. I¡¯ll make sure he doesn¡¯t linger in there too long.¡± Haley nodded, but her eyes drifted toward Ward¡¯s injuries. ¡°Make sure he gets kind of rough with those claw wounds. I saw some debris in them when I was putting the salve on.¡± ¡°Oh, I¡¯ll be sure to scrub them out.¡± Grace jerked her thumb to the door. ¡°Best close that behind you, or his screams might¡ª¡± ¡°I¡¯ll be washing my damn wounds,¡± Ward protested, suddenly feeling much more sober. Haley giggled and showed herself out, clicking the door shut behind her. ¡°Hey, you know what?¡± Ward said, looking at Grace with a stupid grin. ¡°What?¡± ¡°That¡¯s the second time she¡¯s laughed today. It seemed real, didn¡¯t it?¡± Grace¡¯s eyes widened, and she nodded emphatically. ¡°Yes! Yes, it did!¡± Twenty minutes later, much cleaner and with a throbbing but clean leg, Ward was lying in bed while Haley delicately, precisely, stitched a thin, wiry thread through his flesh, sealing up the three deep, jagged wounds on his calf. ¡°This is looking good, Ward. When I¡¯m done, I¡¯ll spread some fresh wound salve on the cuts, and by morning, you¡¯ll be feeling much better.¡± ¡°Oh, I feel pretty good already,¡± Ward sighed, with hardly any slur to his words. Haley pressed her pale lips together and nodded. ¡°You¡¯re lucky. You¡¯re a fast healer.¡± ¡°I am lucky¡ªlucky you were there to put that giant trog down.¡± ¡°Really?¡± Haley¡¯s earnest, almost surprised tone caught Ward off guard. ¡°I felt like an idiot during that fight. I got my sword stuck, nearly fell down the hill, and¡ª¡± ¡°Hey, combat¡¯s messy. What matters is that you overcame that shit and were there when it mattered.¡± Ward was suddenly aware of how warm Haley¡¯s fingers were on his calf. ¡°Did you do your Gopah stuff before I got here?¡± She nodded, smiling slightly. ¡°I did. Earlier today, I was surprised by how good it made me feel. It centers my mind and helps me put my thoughts in order. I¡ª¡± ¡°Your hands are warm, and you seem better. Haley, I think you need to keep doing Gopah as much as you can. I noticed you were better after the battle, and that was the first time I saw you doing those forms since we left Applegrass.¡± Haley set her needle and thread down and put her hands together, rubbing her palm with her thumb as her expression became contemplative. ¡°I think you¡¯re right. I tried it when I first¡­woke up, but it was frustrating. Remember I told you I had to do it for a long time to feel any of the fire?¡± ¡°I do, yeah.¡± ¡°Well, I think I was in despair, afraid I¡¯d broken something in me that would ruin the art. I think I was scared to try it further. Earlier today, though, when I prepared for the trogs, the heat came to me rather quickly, and even though I never used it in the fight¡­¡± She trailed off, clearly thinking deeply about things. ¡°Well, I say we find a Gopah master while we¡¯re here and have a chat. Didn¡¯t you want to ask about the, uh, sword version, anyway?¡± Haley nodded, reaching for the healing salve. ¡°Gopahdo. Yes, I¡¯d like that, Ward. Thank you.¡± Ward smiled and closed his eyes. His buzz was still strong, and he felt happy inside, thinking Haley might be all right. He listened to her and Grace talk about the tavern and his behavior for a little while, but their voices quickly faded as his mind slipped away, and he fell into a deep slumber. 2.5 Fire for the Spirit 5 ¨C Fire for the Spirit The following day, despite the many beers he drank, Ward woke feeling very rested, with a clear head and a calf that was stiff and tender to the touch but fine to walk on. Haley was a different story; the good cheer from the night before was gone, and in its place was a grave, solemn expression. When Ward tried some friendly prodding to get a smile out of her, she only looked away and muttered something which Ward only caught the tail end of, ¡°¡­as the clouds gather.¡± ¡°Hmm?¡± ¡°Nothing.¡± So, Ward dressed in his last clean outfit¡ªblack woolen pants, a dark blue shirt with lovely, polished horn buttons, and his hat and coat. He reckoned his boots could use a shine but resolved to do it after finding a Gopah master. It was his firm belief that Haley needed more attention than the leather. He unpacked everything he didn¡¯t need or wouldn¡¯t be heartbroken to have stolen and slung his much-lighter backpack over his shoulder. ¡°Come on, kiddo,¡± he said, irritating himself immediately. Haley didn¡¯t cringe or complain, though; she stood and woodenly followed him down to the lobby. On the way, Grace made her first appearance for the day. ¡°Are you two hungry? I can smell bacon.¡± Ward slapped his stomach, still amazed at its flat firmness. ¡°I am!¡± When Haley didn¡¯t respond but continued down the steps, he looked at Grace and shrugged. ¡°Is she not well?¡± ¡°Where have you been?¡± ¡°Sleeping!¡± Ward hurried to catch up to Haley. ¡°Do you really? I mean, is it like how,¡± he pointed to Haley and himself, ¡°we sleep?¡± ¡°I think so.¡± Grace shrugged. ¡°I dream and everything.¡± Ward nodded and reached out to grasp Haley¡¯s shoulder as soon as they were on the ground floor. ¡°Hey.¡± She turned to face him, expressionless. ¡°Yes?¡± ¡°Go across the street. The bacon smells good.¡± She stared at him for a solid two or three seconds before his words seemed to register. ¡°Okay.¡± She turned, and Ward looked at Grace and shrugged, giving Haley a minute to slip through the door before he spoke. ¡°She¡¯s worse again.¡± ¡°We have to figure this out. Did you try the hemograph?¡± ¡°No! She seemed better last night, and I thought maybe the Gopah master would know something. Shit, I mean, assuming we find one in the city.¡± Grace nodded. ¡°You will. Port Granite is several times the size of Tarnish. Do you really think it was the Gopah that was making her seem better?¡± ¡°It¡¯s the only explanation I could come up with.¡± Ward started after Haley again, nodding to the innkeeper behind his counter. Outside, he had to pause to pull his coat together and button it up as his breath plumed out in a cloud. ¡°Chilly!¡± Grace said, rubbing her arms. ¡°You¡¯re too much,¡± he chuckled. ¡°What? I like to experience what you do!¡± She pointed. ¡°Haley¡¯s already in line.¡± Ward nodded, carefully crossing the street, making way for a man on a large roan stallion. The horse reminded him of Nutmeg and Wind Queen, and he glanced toward the inn¡¯s stables but didn¡¯t catch a glimpse of either horse. When he caught up to Haley, he asked, ¡°You think the horses are all right?¡± She spun, arching her eyebrow in the first show of emotion that morning. ¡°Why wouldn¡¯t they be?¡± ¡°Uh,¡± Ward reached up to adjust his hat, suddenly made nervous by her sharp tone, ¡°I dunno. I¡¯m sure they are¡ª¡± ¡°Don¡¯t worry me like that!¡± Ward shared a glance with Grace, and then they approached the tavern¡¯s breakfast buffet, which was something the barkeep had told them about the night before. Being across from the inn, the little tavern capitalized on every mealtime. They served eggs, bacon, and hash in the morning, fried fish at lunch, and then it was time for their usual¡ªbeer and more beer. Haley got a plate with a single egg and a slice of bacon, but when she stood before the cashier¡ªa young woman in a stained blue smock and white apron¡ªHaley handed her five glories and said, ¡°For my two friends, as well.¡± ¡°Um¡ª¡± Ward started to say, but the girl was already speaking. ¡°Is your other friend on his way?¡± Haley stared at Grace for a long, pregnant moment before she barked a short, humorless laugh. ¡°My mistake. Just the one friend.¡± Ward cleared his throat. ¡°Yeah, thanks, Haley.¡± He jerked his head toward the seating area, and they grabbed a table by the window. Grace was the first to broach the topic as she knelt on the floor, leaning her arms and chin on the table between them. ¡°Haley, do you feel differently than last night?¡± ¡°Yes, Grace,¡± she sighed, nibbling her bacon. ¡°I tried to tell Ward. I feel like gray weather has rolled in over my mind.¡± Ward swallowed a bite of eggs. ¡°Did you try doing your forms?¡± ¡°How would I have? You woke before I did, didn¡¯t you?¡± Haley¡¯s eyes widened as she heard herself, and she hastily added, ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Ward, I¡ª¡± ¡°Nah, don¡¯t apologize. It was a stupid question.¡± Ward looked to his left, over Grace¡¯s head, at a table of four men wearing overalls, heavy woolen shirts, and boots that looked well-broken in, sporting many dark stains that made him think of tar. ¡°Hey, fellas?¡± One of the men, a burly, red-haired, and bearded fellow, looked over a forkful of eggs and raised an eyebrow. ¡°You speaking to us?¡± ¡°Yeah. Sorry to interrupt your breakfast.¡± Ward pointed to Haley and then himself. ¡°We¡¯re not from town and were wondering if any of you fellas know where we might find a Gopah, um, dojo?¡± He looked at Haley questioningly. She nodded. ¡°Yes, is there a dojo nearby?¡± Redbeard didn¡¯t respond, but the slender guy next to him did, rubbing his clean-shaven head. ¡°Oh, yeah. There are a couple of dojos on this side of town. One is the Fire Lizard Clan¡¯s temple, and then you have the Red Door. I¡¯d say the Red Door would be more welcoming to folks from out of town.¡± ¡°Can you direct us?¡± ¡°Yeah, sure. Just go outside, and you¡¯ll be on Cod Street. Turn left, walk past Pike Avenue, and then you¡¯ll come to Hammer Row. Turn right, and you''ll see the dojo if you walk for a few blocks. Can¡¯t miss it.¡± ¡°Thanks a lot.¡± Ward tipped his hat, and the fellow nodded, returning to his breakfast. ¡°You really love this, don¡¯t you?¡± Grace asked. Haley looked at Grace, but her face didn¡¯t betray any emotion. Ward bit, though. ¡°Love what?¡± ¡°Living in a world where people wear clothes like that. Being able to tip your hat! You really fell into the mid-century gentleman role, you know?¡± Haley looked at Ward, and this time, she arched an eyebrow. ¡°Mid-century?¡± ¡°She¡¯s talking about a time period back on Earth.¡± Ward scooped up a bite of eggs as he added, ¡°And she¡¯s full of shit.¡± ¡°Put it this way, Haley,¡± Grace said, shifting so she was basically hanging off the edge of the table on her elbows, ¡°Ward was pretty stodgy and boring back home. He worked and slept and worked some more.¡± Haley took a nibble of bacon and shrugged. ¡°I think that shows strength of character. Ward¡¯s a driven man. He had an important job.¡± She looked at him and, though it seemed forced, smiled. ¡°Right?¡± ¡°I thought so, yeah. It was a job that made it easy to tune out the rest of my life, anyway.¡± ¡°Okay, okay.¡± Grace sighed. ¡°I can see where your loyalty lies, Haley!¡± She spoke with a smile, and Ward could tell she was just teasing¡ªbusting his chops, as his old partner used to say¡ªso he took pity on her. ¡°Eh, I made the mistake a lot of detectives make; I treated the lives of the people I was trying to help as if they were more important than my own. It wasn¡¯t something I did on purpose, though. I didn¡¯t think about it that way. I wasn¡¯t like, ¡®Okay, these assholes are smuggling XYZ on that boat, and that¡¯s probably more important than me going on a date or buying some stylish clothes to¡­¡¯¡± Ward laughed. ¡°What the hell would I be buying stylish clothes for in this little fantasy? Anyway, yeah, my job was pretty much my life.¡± Someone bumped the back of his chair, and Ward realized the place was getting crowded. Haley wasn¡¯t really eating, and he was feeling antsy, so he grabbed his remaining rasher of bacon and pushed his plate away. ¡°Let¡¯s get moving, yeah?¡±This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. ¡°Okay.¡± Haley followed him out, and Ward immediately started following the guy¡¯s directions to the dojo. As they walked, he nudged Haley with his elbow. ¡°You okay?¡± It took her a few seconds to answer, but she shrugged. ¡°You know I¡¯m not.¡± ¡°C¡¯mon. Remember what we talked about. Part of this is mind over matter, I¡¯m sure of it.¡± When she didn¡¯t respond, he tried another angle to get her talking. ¡°I think I need to buy a new gun, and we also need to find someone to look at that creepy box we got out of Nevkin¡¯s saddlebag.¡± ¡°Did you bring it?¡± Ward slapped his backpack¡¯s strap. ¡°Yep.¡± ¡°That¡¯s good! Perhaps, if the Gopah master will see us, he¡¯ll have advice on where to inquire.¡± Ward steered them around the corner, avoiding a woman sitting on a large rug where she¡¯d displayed bits of silver jewelry for sale. As they walked up the hill between tall, narrow, mostly brick buildings, he asked, ¡°Are you nervous? Have you ever spoken to another Gopah master?¡± ¡°Nervous? Not precisely, no. I was one of the best students in my dojo. I didn¡¯t consider the idea that I should be nervous. Why do you think¡ª¡± ¡°No, that was stupid.¡± Ward waved his hand, shaking his head. ¡°Wrong choice of word. I should have asked what you think it¡¯ll be like. It sounds like Gopah practitioners form pretty tight-knit groups.¡± ¡°It depends. The man in the tavern said the Red Door would accept anyone, so I think it will be similar to the dojo in Tarnish. Master Elm was happy to teach anyone.¡± ¡°Elm? Is that a common surname here?¡± ¡°I¡­¡± Haley squinted and looked up at Ward, her eyes glinting from the depths of her hood. ¡°I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve met anyone else with it, no. Maybe he took it for himself?¡± Ward nodded and, despite his misgivings, put an arm over Haley¡¯s shoulder as they walked. It was a comradely thing like he might do for a buddy who was feeling down, nothing more. ¡°Tell me a little about him.¡± Haley reached up to grasp his wrist, leaning her cheek against his forearm. ¡°I appreciate what you¡¯re doing, Ward. I know you¡¯re trying to give me cheer. I know¡ª¡± ¡°Hush, now, and tell me about Gopah and your old master.¡± ¡°Well, if you insist.¡± She took a deep breath and began to speak, haltingly at first, and then the words began to ramble out of her, ¡°Other than Wind Queen and my family, Gopah was the only thing I ever loved. I could practice my forms for hours and hours. Sometimes, I¡¯d practice in the garden, and when my father would come out to call me in, I¡¯d be stunned to realize it was already dinner time. To me, Gopah is about transcending these physical constructs you see around us¡ªeven our flesh. Master Elm would tell me that he could see my spirit when I did my forms. He was certain I¡¯d be his first student to master the eleventh form¡ªI was already the highest-ranked adept in Tarnish.¡± ¡°Shit,¡± Ward gripped her shoulder and pushed her out to arm¡¯s length so he could look at her face. ¡°I knew you were good but didn¡¯t realize all that. What¡¯s after red? That¡¯s what you are, right?¡± ¡°Yes. Red adepts have six forms, white have seven, gray have eight, and black have nine.¡± ¡°What¡¯s after black, again?¡± ¡°Sky, followed by soul.¡± As she responded, Ward turned onto Hammer Row and scanned the buildings, wondering if he could spot the dojo from the corner. ¡°Was your master a, uh, soul adept?¡± ¡°No! He¡¯s a black adept. I don¡¯t believe there¡¯s a soul adept on Cinder. Even so, Master Elm had much to teach me.¡± ¡°Look!¡± Ward pointed down the street past an open market that took up roughly an entire block, and there, on the corner, was a sprawling, high-fenced compound with an ornate set of red double doors. One side was open, and beyond, Ward could see a courtyard with a fountain at the center. ¡°I think that¡¯s the dojo.¡± ¡°It is!¡± Haley quickened her steps, which Ward took as a good sign. A few minutes later, they were tentatively poking their heads through the gate, looking for any indication that the public was welcome. When Haley saw two portly men, both wearing loose-fitting gray outfits, sparring in what looked like slow motion, she stepped inside. Grace muttered something he didn¡¯t quite catch, but when he turned to ask her to repeat herself, she was gone. ¡°I think Grace is afraid the, uh, Gopah master might see her.¡± Haley didn¡¯t reply and moved a bit further into the courtyard. Ward followed. One of the men was facing the gate, and when he saw Ward and Haley, he pressed his palms together and bowed to his opponent. The other fellow also bowed, and after they stared at each other for a couple of long seconds, he padded on bare feet up some steps and into the main structure. The first man approached Ward and Haley. Ward knew the guy would have a deep voice even before he spoke. His chest was the size of a pickle barrel, and he carried himself like a sumo wrestler. He had swarthy, bronzed skin, and his shaved head glistened with sweat despite the morning chill. ¡°Welcome, travelers!¡± Conscious that Grace was probably judging him, Ward tipped the brim of his hat. ¡°Hello, sir.¡± Haley pressed her left fist into her right palm and bowed low. ¡°Master. Thank you for allowing this one into your domain.¡± ¡°Ah! A fellow Gopah practitioner? I could have guessed based on your carriage, no? Welcome, adept.¡± He turned to Ward. ¡°And you? Not a practitioner?¡± Ward decided to keep things simple. ¡°No.¡± Haley had not yet straightened from her bow. ¡°He has an interest in the art, Master, but more than that, he¡¯s my boon companion.¡± ¡°You are welcome, adept. Please be relaxed.¡± As Haley straightened and lowered her hands, the master narrowed his eyes as he regarded her deep hood. ¡°And what are your names, travelers? You may call me Stone.¡± The name immediately caught Ward¡¯s attention, especially considering Haley¡¯s old master¡¯s name. Was it possible that Gopah masters chose some sort of natural name for themselves, but Haley didn¡¯t know it? If ¡°Elm¡± was the only master she¡¯d ever met, he supposed so. ¡°I¡¯m Ward, and this is Haley, sir. We were hoping we might speak with you. You are the, uh, master of this dojo, right?¡± ¡°That is I!¡± He chuckled and turned, pointing to a pair of benches off to the side where a smaller fountain burbled. ¡°Come and sit with me?¡± He led the way, and when he sat down on one bench, Ward and Haley took the other, facing him. ¡°I feel that you are troubled, Haley.¡± ¡°Right to the point. I like that¡ª¡± Ward began to say, but Stone didn¡¯t look at him, and when Ward saw his intent gaze on Haley, he shut up. ¡°I am troubled, Master Stone.¡± Haley ducked her head, and Ward was ninety percent sure the guy couldn¡¯t see her face at all. ¡°Why don¡¯t you pull back your hood, child? Let me have a look at you.¡± ¡°The sun bothers her¡ª¡± ¡°It¡¯s okay, Ward.¡± Haley reached up and pulled the silky blue cowl away from her face, squinting in the morning light despite the gray, cloud-filled sky. ¡°Ah! Very interesting! Tell me, young adept, what rank have you achieved?¡± ¡°I¡¯m a red adept, sir.¡± ¡°Is that so? Have you yet learned to see the auras of other practitioners? Don¡¯t be upset if not; it usually comes to people when they¡¯ve passed through the rank of white adept.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve glimpsed Master Elm¡¯s aura.¡± ¡°Elm, you say? I know the man well! We trained together at Westview.¡± Despite her attempts to squint, Haley¡¯s eyes bulged. ¡°Master Elm never told me that he¡¯d been to Westview!¡± ¡°Oh, but he has!¡± Stone chuckled. ¡°He and I were both quite young. Oh dear¡ªit must be thirty years ago now. Haley, will you please run through your forms for me? Right there on the stones near the garden will do.¡± ¡°I haven¡¯t even told you what happened¡­¡± ¡°Better that you don¡¯t. Not yet. Let me see what I can see without a story clouding my sight.¡± Haley nodded and stood, and Ward leaned to the side, tilting his body to watch her more easily as she took up a position on the edge of the big courtyard. ¡°Please remove your cloak, dear.¡± Ward almost protested on Haley¡¯s behalf, but she complied too quickly, unfastening her fancy clasp and then bunching the garment up to toss his way. Ward caught it, once again surprised by the supple, heavy, silky feel of the material, and laid it on his lap. Haley wore her leather vest and a bright yellow, short-sleeved shirt beneath, and the paleness of her flesh was made very clear by the unfiltered sunlight. ¡°Begin.¡± Ward felt like Master Stone¡¯s voice would give his own a run for its money when it came to depth and resonance. Haley didn¡¯t need to be prodded again; she immediately began that strange Tai-chi-like dance, moving through her forms. Now that he concentrated, trying to spot the distinct positions, Ward thought he could count all six. He wondered what else constituted actual Gopah, as opposed to just moving your body through those positions. He wondered if it was similar to casting spells with the words of power¡ªdid you have to internalize something? Was there a secret rhythm? A state of mind you had to reach? After a while, he began to see the waves of heat shimmering in the air around Haley¡¯s fists as she snapped them faster and faster through the forms. Her moves were so precise and graceful that he lost himself in the dance, amazed by how she could so flawlessly repeat such complicated-seeming poses. When her fists were practically smoking, and Ward thought he could see glowing red beneath the flesh, he let his eyes drift up to her arms and face and realized she wasn¡¯t as pale as before. Maybe she was flushed from the exertion, but he didn¡¯t think that was it. He studied her expression, and though she looked serious, he thought he saw a tiny curl to the corners of her lips; she was happy. She was enjoying herself. After a while, Master Stone said, ¡°Enough. Please disperse your heat on the gopahj.¡± Ward watched as Haley turned and strode straight across the courtyard to a gray, cylindrical stone set into the courtyard. It reminded him of a parking stanchion only about eight feet tall and a foot in diameter. Haley held her hands wide, the air rippling around them, and then she slapped them each against the ¡°gopahj.¡± The slapping sound echoed around the courtyard, and Ward watched ripples of fire roll up the sides of the stone monolith. Then, as a small cloud of black smoke floated away into the gray sky, Haley returned to the sitting area. Master Stone gestured to the bench, and Haley sat down beside Ward. He handed her the cloak, and she smiled brightly, folding it on her lap. Stone leaned forward and grasped Haley¡¯s hand. ¡°Excellent demonstration, Red Adept.¡± ¡°Thank you, Master Stone.¡± ¡°Might I ask how you feel now?¡± ¡°Better! I¡¯ve told Ward that Gopah helps me. It¡¯s why we came here. We hoped you might know¡ª¡± ¡°What¡¯s amiss?¡± Stone smiled, his cheeks lifting as he leaned back, folding one leg to rest his ankle on his other knee. ¡°I asked you about auras because I can see yours plainly, Haley. Right now, it is bright and strong, but when you arrived, it was dim and clouded. Something clings to it, dragging on it. Your spirit is sheathed in something unfamiliar. Something eldritch¡ªfrom beyond the veil. Am I correct?¡± He addressed the question to both Haley and Ward. ¡°I don¡¯t¡­¡± Haley started to answer, but she turned to Ward. ¡°Haley died. She had no anima, so I risked everything by using a dangerous spell to rebind her spirit to her body.¡± ¡°I feared there was some connection between your sorcery and Haley¡¯s troubles.¡± Stone sighed and shook his head. ¡°I¡¯m sure you meant well, sir, but Haley lives and breathes thanks to an unnatural power. Eldritch forces take a toll on the flesh and the spirit. I¡¯m assuming your aversion to sunlight and those uncanny eyes resulted from the spell?¡± ¡°Yes. Also¡­¡± Again, Haley looked at Ward for support. ¡°She¡¯s stronger than she used to be.¡± Master Stone nodded. ¡°You must continue to practice your Gopah. It fortifies your flesh, and sturdy flesh aids an ailing spirit.¡± ¡°Will it cure me?¡± Haley leaned forward, her eyes ¡°I don¡¯t know for certain, Haley, but I believe that if you continue to master the forms, you will find more and more control over your predicament. You know what the eleventh form is called, yes?¡± ¡°Soul.¡± ¡°Whatever clings to your soul, my dear girl, will not linger long once you master the eleventh form. On that, I¡¯d bet my favorite set of dice.¡± His smile was so reassuring that Ward felt himself grinning along with him. ¡°It won¡¯t be an easy path, dear Haley, but you have great talent. So young, and already six forms mastered? I¡¯d beg you to stay and join my dojo, but I fear you¡¯ve other, bigger plans in mind. Yes?¡± Again, the master looked at Ward as he asked the question. Even so, it was Haley who said, ¡°We¡¯re traveling to Springsea next.¡± ¡°There! You see?¡± He reached over and tousled Haley¡¯s short, feathery black hair. ¡°You¡¯re so much brighter! You should do your forms many times a day! Even if you didn¡¯t have a burden on your spirit, you should do so; how else will you ready yourself for the white sash?¡± He let his gaze drift down to Haley¡¯s belt and frowned. ¡°Why the sword, Red Adept?¡± ¡°It was my father¡¯s. I thought I might like to learn Gopahdo¡ª¡± ¡°No.¡± For the first time, the master didn¡¯t seem optimistic. He shook his head sharply. ¡°That won¡¯t do, Haley. No, no, no. With your condition, you must continue the path of pure Gopah¡ªyou must infuse only your flesh and, thus, your spirit; the sword is too far removed from your vessel. Yes, that¡¯s what it is¡ªyour spirit craves the fire.¡± Haley looked down at her waist, and Ward thought she would protest, but she nodded. ¡°I understand, Master. May I ask you a favor before we leave?¡± ¡°Of course, child.¡± ¡°Will you show me the seventh form? I believe I¡¯m ready to begin learning it.¡± 2.6 Market Square 6 ¨C Market Square ¡°You¡¯re sure you¡¯ll be all right?¡± Ward stood in the gateway to the Red Door dojo, having been ushered there by Haley; the Gopah master had agreed to give her instruction on the seventh form, but apparently, it wasn¡¯t something an outsider could witness. ¡°Yes! I promise. I¡¯m fine.¡± Grace stepped closer to Haley, reaching out as though she could touch the other woman. ¡°And you¡¯ll go straight back to the inn after you¡¯re finished?¡± ¡°Yes, Grace!¡± Haley smiled, and it looked genuine, which Ward took as a good sign; hopefully, the master was right, and Gopah would be the answer to Haley¡¯s troubles. ¡°Ward, I wonder, would you please take this back to the inn for me?¡± As she spoke, she unbuckled her father¡¯s sword belt. ¡°Yeah, sure,¡± he held out a hand, but as she passed the sword his way, Haley shook her head. ¡°No, not back to the inn. Will you please wear it? Considering I can''t, I¡¯d be honored if you¡¯d use my father¡¯s sword.¡± ¡°I¡­¡± Ward wanted to say that he didn¡¯t know how to wield it properly and that he was probably better off buying a nice, stout cudgel, but he could see in her eyes that she wasn¡¯t trying to be practical¡ªthis was emotional for her, and he wanted to encourage her emotions. ¡°I¡¯d be honored, Haley.¡± ¡°Thank you!¡± She ducked her head as he took the heavy weapon and slung the belt around his waist¡ªit fit him much better than it had Haley. ¡°Go now; I don¡¯t want to keep the master waiting.¡± ¡°Okay.¡± Ward nodded. ¡°I¡¯ll do some shopping.¡± ¡°Wait! I nearly forgot that I had another favor to ask you.¡± Ward turned back to her, reaching up to adjust his hat. ¡°Sure. Anything.¡± ¡°Will you stop by the inn and get my shares for the copper mine? They¡¯re bearer certificates, so anyone can sell them. Go to one of the larger finance houses¡ªGoldspar¡¯s would be good. They¡¯ll buy them for a percentage, but don¡¯t accept anything less than seven hundred.¡± ¡°Seven hundred glories?¡± ¡°Yes. Per share. My parents owned forty-seven shares.¡± ¡°Holy shit! Seriously?¡± Haley smiled again and nodded. ¡°Yes. If you need to borrow some of the proceeds, I don¡¯t mind. We¡¯ll use the funds to pay for our travel to Springsea.¡± Grace folded her arms over her chest. ¡°Why didn¡¯t you mention this earlier?¡± ¡°I told Ward I took the shares from my parents¡¯ safe!¡± ¡°Yeah, but when we talked about paying for the trip to Springsea, you didn¡¯t bring it up¡ª¡± ¡°Don¡¯t pester her, Grace. She¡¯s gotta go. We can talk about it later.¡± Ward winked at Haley, then waved and turned, calling back over his shoulder, ¡°I¡¯ll try to get you a good price!¡± ¡°Good luck with the training,¡± Grace said, and Ward had a feeling she would¡¯ve hugged Haley if she could. He strolled down the sidewalk, heading in the general direction of the inn, and when Grace caught up to him, he chuckled, shaking his head. ¡°If you could hop into her head and leave me behind, you would.¡± ¡°That¡¯s not true. I like being with you, Ward.¡± She smiled up at him, and Ward had a hard time believing the little voice in his head that said she was full of shit. A few minutes later, back in the inn, he found the fancy, gilded sheets of paper that laid out Haley¡¯s ownership shares in the ¡°Copper Valley Mine Shaft #4 and all its derivative shafts.¡± They were embossed with intricate seals, stamps, and signatures, making them the most official feeling and looking documents Ward had ever carried, and he¡¯d had his hands on some doozies when it came to court cases. ¡°They just don¡¯t do it like this anymore.¡± ¡°Hmm?¡± Grace looked over his shoulder. ¡°The seals, colorful wax, and embossed stamps. I guess it¡¯s not practical when you¡¯re dealing with thousands of pages of documents every day.¡± ¡°Well, let¡¯s not forget about computers, Ward.¡± She shrugged. ¡°Let¡¯s go!¡± ¡°All right, hang on.¡± Ward took a minute to secure the documents in his backpack, then led the way downstairs and out of the inn. ¡°Crazy to me that she left these docs in the inn. If I were a thief¡­¡± He trailed off as more than a couple of passersby gave him sidelong looks. When he got to the corner of the nearby ¡°Main¡± street, which led further into the city if you turned left and out to the city gates if you turned right, Ward realized he didn¡¯t know where to go. A uniformed city watchman stood on the corner, though, leaning against a long polearm, lazily watching the traffic. Ward walked over to him. ¡°Excuse me, sir.¡± The guard, taller than Ward by an inch or two, spat a wad of brown saliva onto the cobbles, then turned to him. ¡°What?¡± ¡°Can you point me in the direction of, I dunno, a bank or finance¡ª¡± ¡°Goldspar,¡± Grace reminded him. ¡°Finance house like Goldspar¡¯s?¡± Ward finished. The guard nodded down the main road toward the center of town, hardly giving Ward a glance. ¡°Main square. Move on, now! Don¡¯t need a crowd bunching up here!¡± He spat again, a little too close to Ward¡¯s boots for comfort. Despite his impulse to bark back at the guy, Ward just nodded, tilted the brim of his hat down, and turned to follow the foot traffic into the city. ¡°What a jerk!¡± Grace said. ¡°I¡¯m glad you didn¡¯t punch him or something. I¡¯d hate for Haley to have to come and find you in the pillory.¡± ¡°Pillory? They wouldn¡¯t do that¡­would they?¡± Ward hadn¡¯t considered the various forms of medieval punishment he might come across in his new reality. ¡°Let¡¯s not find out the hard way.¡± ¡°Yeah, I was thinking that as the other half of my brain told me to cuss the guy out. I was more thinking of being tossed in a cell, though.¡± A woman walking nearby looked at him sideways, but when she saw Ward¡¯s eyes in the shadows of his wide-brimmed hat, she quickly looked away and hurried her steps. ¡°That woman thinks you¡¯re talking to an evil spirit or something.¡± Ward smirked. ¡°Aren¡¯t I?¡± ¡°Hey!¡± Grace punched his shoulder. ¡°I thought we were starting over? Did you black that out?¡± Ward rubbed his shoulder and chuckled. ¡°Nah, I didn¡¯t forget. C¡¯mon, teasing¡¯s part of friendship.¡± Grace smiled and reached up to smooth the fabric of his coat. ¡°Friendship. Right!¡± It wasn¡¯t hard to find the ¡°main square.¡± It was the first one they came to, and Ward nearly slapped himself on the forehead when he recalled they were walking on Main Street. ¡°Makes sense,¡± he chuckled, looking around. He stood under the eaves of a building on the corner and watched the traffic moving around the square. The center part was fenced off with pedestrian gates where it looked like city officials were selling tickets. The sign above the nearest gate read, ¡°Open Market.¡± The road narrowed but continued around the outer edge of the square alongside wide red-brick sidewalks. Ward counted something like thirty buildings on one side of the square, and many of them looked to be likely candidates for the sale of Haley¡¯s shares. Grace leaned close and said, ¡°I don¡¯t see Goldspar¡¯s, but how about Kent Lending House?¡±Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator. ¡°You like the sound of that one?¡± ¡°Their logo looks like a hunting dog¡ªdogs symbolize loyalty.¡± ¡°So, you like their marketing?¡± Ward laughed, but when Grace narrowed her eyes at him, he shrugged. ¡°All right.¡± He hooked his thumbs under the straps of his backpack and merged with the flow of pedestrians, working his way around the square to the three-story, narrow brick building. The bricks were painted black, and the sign Grace had seen was painted with gold lettering. He wouldn¡¯t admit it to Grace, but he liked the image of the dog, too. It reminded him of a Labrador retriever. When he opened the door, Grace slipped past him to enter first. ¡°Seems nice, doesn¡¯t it?¡± Ward followed her in, his boots clicking on the black and white tiles. When he saw a young man wearing a fine, light-gray woolen suit behind the desk in the elegant lobby, he smiled and stepped closer. ¡°Hello.¡± The man looked up, delicately setting aside his ink pen. ¡°Welcome to Kent¡¯s, sir. How might I help you today?¡± ¡°I was hoping to meet with someone who could broker the exchange of some mine shares.¡± ¡°Will the buyer and seller both be present?¡± ¡°Assuming your institution buys them, yes.¡± ¡°Oh! I understand now. Just a moment, sir.¡± The man stood, his chair legs scraping noisily on the hard floor, and then walked down a wide, ornately trimmed hallway. ¡°That got his attention.¡± Grace hopped up onto the fellow¡¯s desk, her legs dangling. Ward frowned at her, staring at the displaced, spilled ink pot. He wondered how long he could stare, forcing the weird magic that tricked his mind into continuing to¡ªHe blinked, and the pot was upright again, the spilled ink gone. ¡°Huh,¡± he grunted, and Grace looked at him quizzically, but before Ward could explain, the young man approached, his polished shoes clicking on the tiles. ¡°Sir, Mr. Kent will see you now.¡± ¡°Mr. Kent? As in the name on the sign?¡± ¡°Yes, sir. His father is our founder.¡± He gestured to the hallway. ¡°Right this way, sir.¡± As he led Ward down the hallway, he asked, ¡°Might I have your name, sir?¡± ¡°Ward Dyer.¡± ¡°Thank you.¡± Ward followed him to an ornate, polished mahogany door, which the young man opened. He announced, ¡°Mr. Ward Dyer here to see you, Mr. Kent.¡± A jovial voice responded, ¡°Welcome! Come in, come in, Mr. Dyer.¡± When Ward did so, nodding to the young man as he passed, he found himself in a plush but disorderly office with stacks of papers, folders, and books nearly obscuring the little man behind the desk. He walked around, smiling broadly under prominent, round cheeks. ¡°Welcome, welcome. Hobert Kent, at your service. Here, here.¡± He gestured to a small round table on the side of the room. ¡°Less mess over here. Let¡¯s have a seat at the table.¡± Ward unslung his backpack and sat at the table, doffing his hat and placing it in an empty chair. There followed a lengthy discussion about mines, their booms and busts, the risks involved with their ownership, and how past production wasn¡¯t a guarantee of future value. Still, the negotiations for the share prices were tepid because Hobert Kent¡¯s initial offer was six hundred and ten glories per share, and it was easy enough to talk him up to seven hundred. Ward¡¯s inclination was to stop there, but he figured he ought to put a bit more effort into the process, considering the shares were basically Haley¡¯s inheritance, so he dragged things out, making comments he didn¡¯t even know to be true like, ¡°The mine¡¯s been very productive in the last few years,¡± and, ¡°Now, Mr. Kent, I hope you know I could easily offload these for eight-hundred back in Tarnish. Have you done your due diligence?¡± His efforts proved fruitful, and soon Kent agreed to a price of seven-fifty per share. Knowing Haley would be happy with that, Ward shook the man¡¯s hand, handed over the bearer documents, and signed a bill of sale. ¡°How will you take the funds, sir? A promissory note? It¡¯s valid at any seal-bearing financial institution on Cinder. You¡¯d be more protected that way, as your name and thumbprint will be on the note.¡± ¡°Thumbprint, huh?¡± ¡°Oh yes, sir. Did you know that the lines on a person¡¯s thumb are unique? The major finance institutions employ experts who can read the difference between prints in just a matter of minutes.¡± Ward thought about it, considering the risk of carrying around that many glories. Then he thought about Haley and what she¡¯d want and shook his head. ¡°I think I¡¯ll take glories.¡± ¡°As you say, sir. Please be patient while I access the vault.¡± Ward watched the little fellow leave, then turned to Grace. ¡°I guess they¡¯re learning about fingerprints in this world.¡± ¡°Yeah, but there¡¯s a pretty big gap between noticing a difference between a pair and having a database of criminal¡¯s prints.¡¯ ¡°True, but still, it¡¯s good to know.¡± ¡°That¡¯s quite a lot of money, you know. It shows how much Haley trusts you. What if you took the glories, took the horse she practically gave you, and left her here? She¡¯d never find you; how would she even know if you took passage on a ship or not?¡± Ward sighed, leaning back in his chair. ¡°Grace, that¡¯s the kind of thing that makes me worry about you. There¡¯s no way I¡¯d do that to Haley, and she knows it. We¡¯ve been through too much together. She knows me. You should realize¡ª¡± ¡°It was just a hypothetical, Ward! I didn¡¯t say I thought you might do it! I didn¡¯t say you should!¡± ¡°All right, all right.¡± Ward waved a hand. ¡°Forget it.¡± He glanced out the office window to the busy sidewalk outside. ¡°Where should we go next? Gun store or try to find someplace to ask about Nevkin¡¯s box?¡± Something about the box¡¯s creepy nature and the fact that it was tangentially related to the same magic that had messed Haley up had kept Ward from mentioning it to the Gopah master. ¡°Ask Kent. He stands to make some decent money off those shares he just bought, and he¡¯ll want to earn your repeat business.¡± ¡°Yeah, I will.¡± Ward let his eyes wander around Kent¡¯s office, wondering at the sheaves of paper, the stacks of files, and the general mess. The idea of making a living working with documents like that all day almost made him shudder. ¡°I feel like I bargained him up quite a bit, but I¡¯m sure he¡¯s going to make a profit at that price. I bet this little deal will have made his week if he can make a decent upsell.¡± ¡°Undoubtedly. You might have squeezed a bit more out of him.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not a sales guy, Grace. I don¡¯t like bargaining.¡± ¡°No, I get that. You¡¯re a doer, not a talker.¡± Ward was trying to think of a response to that when the door opened, and Hobert Kent returned, toting a surprisingly small, supple leather bag. ¡°I¡¯ve provided most of the sale price in thousand-glory coins.¡± He handed the pouch over, and Ward heard the clinks of something that sounded a lot like glass. ¡°Feel free to confirm my count.¡± Ward nodded, wondering what the higher-denomination coins looked like. When he opened the pouch and poured some of the contents into his hand, a few heavy, gold hundred-glory coins slid out along with half a dozen deep red, crystalline coins with hundreds of tiny facets. ¡°Shit,¡± he said softly, ¡°are these cut gemstones?¡± ¡°That¡¯s correct, sir¡ªstraight from the mint on Primus.¡± The coins were roughly the size of Ward¡¯s thumbnail, and it drove home the idea that the ¡°glories¡± weren¡¯t meant only to represent value; they were valuable in themselves. Ward poured the rest onto the table, carefully not to spill any onto the floor. He counted them as he slid them back into the pouch¡ªthirty-five red gemstone coins, two golden, hundred-glory coins, and then another fifty broken up into silver coins. ¡°Looks good,¡± he grunted, closing up the pouch and stuffing it inside his coat¡¯s inner pocket, opposite his personal supply of glories¡ªsomething like fifteen hundred. ¡°Welp, I guess that does it for us. Say, Mr. Kent, you¡¯re familiar with the shops in the area, aren¡¯t you?¡± ¡°Oh yes! I¡¯ve lived in Port Granite my entire life. How can I help?¡± ¡°Two things¡ªI need the name of a good firearms dealer, and I¡¯d also like to know if you can direct me to a more¡­esoteric establishment, someplace I might get some advice about magical objects and runic scripts.¡± ¡°Wow! Very nicely put, Ward!¡± Grace interjected before Kent could reply. ¡°For firearms, sir, there¡¯s a shop across the square¡ªHarkwright¡¯s¡ªand my father and all the hunting men in my family swear by their prices and quality. As for someone who might help with your more¡­arcane needs, you might try Raskin¡¯s Alchemy. They employ a sorcerer in that shop, and the establishment is well-respected in the city. You¡¯ll find them just a few blocks from the square on Twelfth Street.¡± Ward stood, scooping his hat up from the empty seat beside him. He stretched out a hand, and Kent shook it firmly. Ward smiled and put his hat on. ¡°Pleasure doing business with you, sir.¡± ¡°It¡¯s mutual, so please remember me for your financial needs. As you know, a business is only as successful as its reputation is good. I hope you¡¯ll let your acquaintances know about our fine service.¡± ¡°Of course.¡± With that, Ward showed himself out of the office and out to the busy market square. He looked at Grace. ¡°Since we¡¯re already at the market, let¡¯s check out that gun store first.¡± As she nodded and started walking, leading the way, Ward adjusted the sword belt on his waist; it was going to take some getting used to. Back in Kent¡¯s office, he¡¯d kept catching it on the chair and had almost stood up to take it off in exasperation. He followed Grace around the market, moving with the flow of pedestrians as they crossed the street at the corner, and then, as they rounded the other side, he scanned the businesses until he saw one with an ornate, wrought-iron sign that read, ¡°Harkwright¡¯s Alchemical Armaments.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll be in your head,¡± Grace said, ¡°You know, until I¡¯m sure no one in there can see me.¡± ¡°Right.¡± Ward nodded, climbing the steps and pulling wide the door. Inside the narrow shop, his boots echoed on the wooden planks, and everything seemed dim, nearly dark, after walking across the bright square. He was instantly struck by the scents of oil and wood shavings and inhaled deeply, enjoying the heady aromas. He noted a hat rack to the side of the door, so he doffed his hat and hung it there, and when he turned to look at the wares on display, he practically began to drool. A long counter ran the length of the right-hand wall, and behind it were hung hundreds of obviously custom-made firearms or, as the sign had proclaimed, alchemical arms. Polished hardwood stocks, carved in fanciful yet ergonomic and graceful swoops supported barrels of all types. A rifle with a cylindrical firing chamber about ten times larger in circumference than his old revolver caught his eye, and as he chuckled in admiration, he let his gaze wander, settling on a blunderbuss that looked a lot like Velvet, Marshal Aldiss¡¯s beloved weapon. He was so taken by the beauty of the custom weapons that he hardly noticed the woman standing behind the counter until she cleared her throat. ¡°Welcome in, sir! You¡¯ve got perfect timing; we were just about to close up for lunch, but I don¡¯t mind staying open for a gentleman in need of a weapon.¡± Ward looked at her and noted the apron stuffed with delicate tools, the brass-framed, red-tinted spectacles, and the tidy ponytail holding her curly black hair away from her face. She looked friendly, and he smiled and nodded, walking toward the counter. ¡°I¡¯m in the market for a decent, um, alchemical pistol or rifle. Heck, maybe both. Do you have time to answer some questions?¡± 2.7 Blazewitch ¡°I¡¯m Riley,¡± the woman with the fancy spectacles said, tapping the countertop, ¡°and I¡¯d be happy to answer any questions you might have about our alchemical arms.¡± Ward stepped up to the counter, his eyes still drawn to the polished and oiled guns hanging on the wall behind her. Some of the rifles had absurdly long barrels, and others were absurdly wide. Some looked like muzzle-loaders, and others were clearly meant to fire cartridges. Riley watched his eyes drift from gun to gun and said, ¡°You certainly seem to like what you see.¡± ¡°I¡¯m impressed by the craftsmanship, that¡¯s for sure. They¡¯re like works of art.¡± ¡°Well, our smiths take great pride in their work, and we wouldn¡¯t put the Harkwright stamp on ¡®em if they weren¡¯t the very best.¡± Ward nodded, frowning in thought. ¡°They¡¯re much finer looking than many of the guns I¡¯ve seen since coming to Cinder. I take it there¡¯s a pretty wide range when it comes to ¡®alchemical arms¡¯ quality, yeah?¡± ¡°Most definitely, sir.¡± ¡°And the ammunition? Do you manufacture it?¡± She nodded. ¡°Harkwright¡¯s own alchemical fire factory is outside the city, just a few miles to the north. We have alchemists with the highest credentials creating our fire, and our bullet smiths make the finest, most stable ammunition with it.¡± Ward nodded. ¡°I was going to ask about that. I had a handgun I really¡ªWell, if I¡¯m honest, I really loved it. I had a guy make me some bullets in Tarnish, and they blew the barrel off it.¡± ¡°Oh, that¡¯s awful! I hope it wasn¡¯t a family heirloom!¡± The concern in Riley¡¯s voice was palpable, and it made Ward feel better. He really had been upset about that gun, and she seemed like the first person he could talk to who understood that loss. ¡°Nah, just a revolver I spent a lot of time with.¡± ¡°A revolver?¡± She gestured to the shotgun-shaped weapon with the big rotating cylinder. ¡°In a handgun?¡± ¡°Yep. It was a real beauty.¡± Ward tried to steer the conversation to more pertinent subjects, ¡°Are any of your barrels rifled?¡± ¡°Rifled, sir?¡± ¡°Um, do you cut grooves inside the barrels to give the bullets some spin as they traverse it?¡± She looked at him blankly, shaking her head. ¡°It makes them more accurate.¡± ¡°I¡­I¡¯ll have to ask our gunsmiths about that, sir, but it¡¯s not a technique I¡¯m familiar with.¡± ¡°Well, it was just a hope.¡± As he spoke, Grace appeared, sitting on the counter to his left. ¡°She can¡¯t see me, I¡¯m sure. I stood by the door for a while so I¡¯d have an excuse for being there.¡± ¡°Do any of these pieces catch your eye, sir?¡± Riley stood back a little and gestured toward the wall of guns. Grace interjected. ¡°Since they¡¯re not going to be as accurate as modern guns, Ward, you should get something that you can use to even the odds¡ªsomething like the marshal¡¯s weapon.¡± Ward had already come to a similar conclusion, so he pointed to the gun with the cylinder. ¡°Tell me about that.¡± Riley smiled and hefted it down from the wall. It looked heavy, but Ward could see brass hooks where a sling could be mounted. She set the gun on the counter between them, resting it on the stock and the polished wooden forearm. The barrel was about eighteen inches long, made of almost opalescent, blued steel, and engraved with the fanciful, flowing script Ward had seen on some of the enchanted items he¡¯d come across. The cylinder had five big chambers, and it looked to be made of brass and steel. When Riley flipped the catch and split the weapon just behind the rear sight, exposing the chambers, Ward whistled. ¡°That¡¯s a big bore!¡± ¡°Yes, sir! They¡¯re designed for our signature ¡®Hellfire¡¯ cartridges. This is not a weapon meant for hunting rabbits or even deer; this is a weapon meant to wreak havoc on whatever is in front of the barrel.¡± She reached under the counter, and Ward heard a cabinet door open and close, and then she set a wooden box on the counter. She slid the top of the box aside, revealing row after row of brass cartridges, each a little bigger than a twelve-gauge shotgun shell. ¡°Hellfire cartridges?¡± When she smiled and nodded, Ward used his thumbnail to pry one out, hefting it in his hand. It was heavy but felt good and solid. The top of the brass casing was plugged with red wax. It really did look like a shotgun shell. ¡°What¡¯s in it?¡± ¡°Our proprietary alchemical ¡®hellfire¡¯ and fifteen magnesium-alloy pellets. You have good taste, sir; this weapon is the pride of our master weaponsmith. He¡¯s given it a name.¡± She shifted the gun onto its side, displaying the right side of the stock where, in flowing, polished pyrography, someone had written, ¡°Blazewitch.¡± Grace laughed. ¡°Of course, it¡¯s a she!¡± ¡°Blazewitch, huh?¡± Ward tapped the dark, burnished barrel, ¡°Um, is she the witch, or is she meant to be fired at witches?¡± For the first time, Riley¡¯s answer wasn¡¯t instantaneous. She took a moment to look at Ward, especially in his eyes. ¡°I¡¯d say that¡¯s up to the wielder, sir.¡± ¡°Good answer!¡± Grace crowed. Ward smiled. ¡°I¡¯d love to see how it works, Riley.¡± She pressed her lips together and made a quick nod. ¡°I can demonstrate the weapon if you¡¯d like. We have a shooting gallery on the second floor.¡± She hefted the weapon, snapping the breech closed. ¡°If you wouldn¡¯t mind bringing that box of munitions, sir?¡± Ward nodded and picked up the box. ¡°How, uh, stable are these things? Is it dangerous to carry¡ª¡± ¡°Not at all, sir! Our alchemical fire is the most stable on the planet! Those shells, in particular, are foolproof. They require the activating runes inscribed on Blazewitch¡¯s cylinders to fire.¡± ¡°Wait¡ªthese ¡®hellfire¡¯ cartridges are made just for this gun?¡± As she led the way toward the back of the shop, Riley chuckled and shook her head. ¡°No, sir. We have a few other weapons designed for those munitions.¡± She opened a door revealing a narrow stairway up, and Ward followed her to the second floor. Another door opened onto a shooting gallery, just as she¡¯d promised. A counter ran the length of the room, and beyond it was open space. The far wall looked to be lined with cinderblocks and heavy wooden pallets. ¡°Quiet day?¡± ¡°Very! As I said, we were just closing for lunch, and my colleague, Mr. Taft, had already left when you arrived.¡± ¡°No Harkwright?¡± ¡°I¡¯m a Harkwright, sir. My great-grandfather established this business.¡± Ward worked to remove the shoe from his mouth, ¡°Oh! I shouldn¡¯t have assumed! I don¡¯t know why, but when I heard the name ¡®Harkwright,¡¯ I pictured an older man with a big gray mustache.¡± He chuckled lamely, but Riley was game and smiled as she nodded, bobbing her ponytail. ¡°Sounds like my grandfather! Perhaps you saw some old sales brochure or another.¡± She split the breech on the gun again, revealing the cylinder. She pointed to the counter. ¡°Please set the box there, sir.¡± She set the gun down, then, before loading it, walked to a far corner where she grunted and strained to drag a big square target stand made of cast iron toward the counter. Ward hurried to help, and she quickly relented, allowing him to take over. ¡°Please place it ten paces from the counter.¡±This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there. While Ward dragged it through a narrow walkway, she moved back to the corner, where she picked up a two-foot square of wood about an inch thick. As Ward steadied the cast-iron stand, she affixed the wooden target to it with long bolts and butterfly nuts. Back behind the counter, she asked, ¡°Might I ask your name, sir?¡± ¡°Oh, didn¡¯t I say? I¡¯m sorry about that, Riley! I¡¯m Ward.¡± ¡°It¡¯s a pleasure, Ward. The Blazewitch is not a weapon meant to be used at range. I wouldn¡¯t shoot it at anyone¡ªahem, thing¡ªfurther than twenty paces distant. The force of the munitions and the short, broad barrel make for a wide dispersal of the fiery projectiles. For that reason, be cautious about whatever might lie behind your¡­target.¡± She smiled, slipped one of the brass cartridges into the cylinder, and snapped the gun¡¯s breech closed with a satisfying click. ¡°Please guard your ears, sir.¡± Standing a few feet behind her, Ward reached up to plug his ears as she held the polished stock to her shoulder. The gun looked heavy, and she wasn¡¯t a very big woman, but she held it like a pro. The weapon didn¡¯t have a visible hammer, but whatever the trigger did to activate the shell made another audible click as she pulled it. The reaction was instantaneous¡ªWard was certain he¡¯d be hearing nothing but a high-pitched whine if he hadn¡¯t plugged his ears. The thunderous report reverberated through the room, shaking dust from the rafters and sending target papers fluttering off the counter. Ward felt it deep in his chest and almost took a step back. Meanwhile, Blazewitch¡¯s barrel flashed with an intense burst of light, far brighter than a typical firearm. He had to squint against the glare in order to see the fire that spewed from the muzzle¡ªa roiling plume of alchemical flame, orange and blue in hue, laced with streaks of white from the burning magnesium. The fire looked almost alive, briefly dancing forward in a wild, erratic wave. Standing slightly to the side, Ward could see the blast shred the wooden target against the cast-iron target stand. The wood burst into fiery splinters, and the magnesium pellets seemed to spread against the cast iron, burning with white-hot intensity, turning the metal around them orange-hot as the remaining bits of wood burst into flames. Thick, acrid smoke filled the air, and after she set the smoking gun down on the counter, Riley waved her hand in front of her face, smiling broadly. ¡°What do you think?¡± she yelled. Ward was still basking in the backwash of heat from the blast, and his answering smile was enough for Grace. ¡°Oh, my gosh. You¡¯re going to buy it, aren¡¯t you?¡± ¡°I like it!¡± Ward said, nodding. He stepped up to the counter and hefted the gun. He was right; it was heavy but not as bad as he feared¡ªmaybe a bit more than his old Mossberg. Still grinning, with flushed cheeks, Riley nodded toward the gun. ¡°Go ahead and carry her, Ward. Let¡¯s go back downstairs, and we can talk about options.¡± She picked up the box of ammo and led the way. On the way down, Ward asked, ¡°What if I run out of ammunition and I¡¯m nowhere near your store?¡± ¡°We¡¯ll give you a recipe for the fire, and if you save your cartridges, any competent alchemist with credentials from one of the major academies should be able to refill them.¡± Ward wanted to ask her about the ¡°academies¡± in question, but she was already through the bottom door. When he followed her back into the shop, he saw she had other customers waiting¡ªtwo men with hard faces, long, leather trench coats, and expressions of impatience. Riley told them she¡¯d be right with them, and, feeling a little sorry for her, Ward decided to keep his extraneous questions to a minimum. He liked the weapon for what it was¡ªsomething he could pull out when things went to shit. If he¡¯d had it against those trogs, the alpha would have been a hell of a lot less scary. That said, he didn¡¯t think he needed hundreds of rounds of ammunition. He ended up buying two boxes of twenty rounds, along with a masterfully made, tooled-leather sling for the gun. It was adjustable, and before he left, he set it so that if he hung it over his neck, on his left shoulder, the gun rested comfortably on his right side, down by his hip and opposite Haley¡¯s sword. Altogether, he spent his remaining fifteen hundred glories and another thousand of Haley¡¯s. He felt a little guilty, considering he¡¯d just made a pauper of himself and would be mooching off her for everything until he earned some more money, but he also felt a hell of a lot better with that gun hanging by his side as he exited the store. What little magic he knew was powerful, and he intended to learn to use the sword, but, in the meantime, Blazewitch¡¯s weight was¡­comforting. As he led the way toward their next stop, Grace teased him. ¡°You just had to buy the biggest gun in the shop, didn¡¯t you?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t think it¡¯s the biggest¡ª¡± ¡°Oh sure, some of those blunderbusses had bigger barrels, but they were one-shot weapons! You had to get a five-shot, hellfire-spewing cannon!¡± She laughed. Ward shook his head, grinning. He couldn¡¯t deny it. ¡°I mean, you saw her shoot this thing, didn¡¯t you?¡± Ward lifted the gun, smiling at the weight, admiring the gleaming, polished barrel and the smooth, oiled cherry-wood furnishings. Riley had cleaned the barrel¡ªeasy enough to push an oily rag through it¡ªbefore he¡¯d left. ¡°Magnesium and ¡®hellfire¡¯ alchemical mixtures? Please don¡¯t shoot it indoors, Ward. You¡¯re going to burn down half the city.¡± ¡°Doesn¡¯t seem like something that would be legal back home, does it? I mean, if ¡®alchemical fire¡¯ were a thing back there.¡± He frowned. ¡°I¡¯m interested in trying to recreate a proper pistol and ammo¡ªsomething more like my old gun¡ªbut I figure we¡¯ll be leaving this town soon, and something like that might take a while. Maybe in the next city, depending on how far out our trip to Springsea is.¡± ¡°Sounds like a plan. You should take some fighting lessons, too. You¡¯re tough, and you¡¯ve been in some scuffles, but I¡¯d like to see you learn to use that sword properly.¡± ¡°Yeah, I had a similar thought.¡± Ward turned to the left, nodding to the watchwoman on the corner, then lengthened his stride, scanning the buildings on either side of the street for the alchemist shop Kent had recommended. ¡°What about the horses?¡± Grace asked out of the blue. ¡°Huh?¡± ¡°When you travel via ship, at least based on my experience from Earth, it¡¯s quite a lot more costly to bring livestock, and the voyage is often hard on them.¡± Ward rubbed his chin, shaking his head. He hated the idea of Haley having to part with Wind Queen. He liked Nutmeg, too, but leaving the trusty gelding behind wouldn¡¯t break his heart. ¡°I dunno. I guess that¡¯s up to Haley. We¡¯ll see how long the voyage is and what kinds of ships are available. That¡¯ll make a difference.¡± ¡°I mean, that¡¯s just to Westview; who knows how hard it¡¯d be to bring the mounts off-world on the living ship.¡± Ward nodded and shrugged. ¡°I get it, Grace. We¡¯ll need to talk about it. I can¡¯t do anything about it right now, so¡ªAha!¡± He pointed to a wrought-iron sign with a large, blown-glass bottle hanging from it. The sign was painted with bright yellow lettering that read ¡°Raskin¡¯s.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll be in your head,¡± Grace announced, and Ward remembered that supposedly a sorcerer was working in the shop. He nodded and went inside. It was almost exactly how he might imagine a popular medieval alchemy shop would look¡ªracks of bottles, bins of herbs, candles, soaps, and lots and lots of smells. A man in a plain brown smock was busily mashing something with a large black mortar and pestle on the wooden counter. Without looking up, he said, ¡°Welcome. We¡¯ve a special on widow¡¯s root.¡± Ward grunted as he unslung his backpack, tangling it in the strap for his new gun. He cursed and fought to separate them without dropping Blazewitch on the ground, and that¡¯s when the alchemist finally looked up and widened his eyes. ¡°Oh, hello there, brother! It¡¯s been some time since another with the touch stopped in.¡± Growling, Ward set his pack on the ground, unwound the gun¡¯s strap, and then slung it over his neck. When he looked up, he saw the man was staring with faintly glowing eyes. He wasn¡¯t sure he¡¯d notice the glow in the daylight, but in the dim shop, it was pretty apparent. ¡°Um, thanks. Pleasure to meet you; I¡¯m Ward.¡± He doffed his hat, but when he looked around and didn¡¯t see a hatrack, he nodded and set it back atop his head. ¡°I¡¯m Elliot! My uncle is Reynaud Raskin, the owner of this establishment. Are you a traveler, then?¡± Ward opened the flap of his pack and withdrew the heavy lead-sealed box. ¡°I am. Just passing through, but I was hoping maybe you could tell me a little something about this.¡± He set the box on the counter with a heavy thud. Elliot recoiled, frowning. ¡°It has a rather unpleasant feel, doesn¡¯t it?¡± ¡°Yeah. An insane guy dug it up from a grave, but I¡¯m not sure where. I took it from him after he tried to kill me.¡± ¡°Insane, you say?¡± He peered at Ward closely as he spoke. ¡°Was he a sorcerer?¡± ¡°Yeah, of a sort.¡± ¡°Your voice is so resonant. Tell me, Ward, do you know many of the words?¡± Ward frowned, giving the guy a closer look. His smock was stained, his fingers equally so, and he looked lean and hungry. He looked like a man who¡¯d been cooped up for days or weeks without anything decent to eat, and Ward was a freshly roasted chicken. In a way, he reminded Ward of Nevkin back before he¡¯d gotten the tongue. Thinking of the tongue, Ward resolved to keep his lip movements small and his tongue firmly behind his teeth; he didn¡¯t want to deal with this hungry-looking sorcerer getting ideas about what he might or might not have. ¡°I know a few, yeah.¡± ¡°Care to consider a trade?¡± Ward¡¯s eyebrows shot up. Now, that was something he hadn¡¯t considered but probably should have. It explained the guy''s hungry stare; he wasn¡¯t looking to rob Ward; he was looking to exchange some knowledge. ¡°I might be interested. Let me hear what you¡¯ve got to say about this thing first. If you seem like you know what you¡¯re talking about, we can discuss a possible trade. How¡¯s that sound?¡± ¡°A challenge! I like it, traveler! Now, let me see here. Those runes are familiar, but¡­where did I see them?¡± He pulled the box closer and leaned forward, staring at the runes. ¡°A moment, Ward, I must retrieve a text.¡± With that, he turned and slipped through a beaded curtain, sending the strings bouncing to and fro as they rattled. Suddenly, Grace was there, crouching low before the counter. ¡°Be careful, Ward. Something¡¯s strange about that man.¡± Ward gently slapped his hand on Blazewitch¡¯s stock. ¡°I¡¯ll be careful.¡± 2.8 Trading Words Grace disappeared again as the sound of Elliot¡¯s footsteps drew near. The strange, hungry-looking man held a thick, leather-bound book in his ink-stained hands. ¡°I¡¯m quite sure that this tome will have some mention of those runes. I was reading it last month, and if I recall correctly, it had something to do with the Novigrad Coven on Aetheris.¡± He began thumbing through the pages, and Ward watched, trying to decide how ignorant he wanted to sound. ¡°Remind me, would you? Novigrad Coven?¡± ¡°Oh, of course! I must remember that you¡¯re a traveler. I learned about the Novigrads while at the academy. A coven of witches¡ªsome related by blood, but most by blood ritual¡ªwho ruled most of Aetheris some four or five centuries ago. They had quite an influence on the course of magical and alchemical studies, even into modern times.¡± He paused his page turning and leaned closer. ¡°Let¡¯s see here¡­¡± Ward watched him, trying to get a good look at the page, but the printing was tiny, and reading upside down didn¡¯t make it easy to decipher. After a minute, Elliot pulled the metal box closer and began scribbling on a sheet of paper. ¡°You found it?¡± ¡°Yes! A matching alphabet. Just give me a few moments, and we¡¯ll unravel the mysteries of this unpleasant vessel.¡± While the man worked, Ward looked around the shop, noting that the front area, accessible to anyone, was mainly dominated by bins of herbs sold by weight. Other mundane items like soap and candles were free to be picked up and examined, but the interesting items¡ªpotions, ointments, salves, and tinctures¡ªwere kept behind the counter. Ward saw several that interested him, from healing tonics to antidotes to something called ¡°Flame Grease.¡± However, he kept his questions in check, not wanting to interrupt Elliot¡¯s work. After ten minutes of scribbling, Elliot gave the box a thump, picked up the paper, and began to recite, ¡°Beware, all ye who dare lay hands upon this accursed reliquary. Let no drop of thy blood fall upon the medallion within, for its whispers shall unsettle thy very soul. Only those possessed of unyielding will and ironclad mind should seek to claim the power entombed herein, lest madness devour thee from within.¡± Ward couldn¡¯t help noticing how Elliot¡¯s free hand had wandered to the metal box, grasping one end of it between his long, pale, ink-stained fingers. Ward took ahold of it and, with a none-to-gentle tug, slid it toward himself. ¡°Thanks for deciphering that. It explains a lot about what happened to the former owner.¡± Elliot¡¯s tongue darted out to furtively lick his thin, pale lips. ¡°Ah, oh, um, yes. A dire warning, indeed. Still¡ªa relic, and no doubt from the Novigrad Era! Quite a find there, sir. I don¡¯t suppose you¡¯d like to sell it?¡± Ward frowned. Something in him instantly rejected the idea, but another part of him had to wonder at the wisdom of keeping a box that contained an object that could supposedly drive a person mad. Was that really what happened to Nevkin? Hadn¡¯t the box been whispering to him before he even dug it up? Suddenly, Ward made a logical leap that made much more sense: maybe Nevkin had seen this box before. Hadn¡¯t he been speaking with it almost familiarly when he pulled it out of the earth? Maybe he¡¯d hidden it in a grave to keep it safe? Or perhaps someone had taken it from him? ¡°You seem troubled by my question. Will you consider it, at least?¡± Elliot¡¯s words jolted Ward from his musing, and he shook his head, trying to clear it. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯ll think about it. I was just thinking about the last guy who held this box. I think he might have opened it in the past.¡± ¡°That alchemical seal looks fresh, so I wouldn¡¯t be surprised.¡± Ward turned the box to look at the shiny metallic seal that had been poured into the seam where the box¡¯s lid connected to the base. ¡°You can tell that?¡± ¡°Without question. I make seals like that all the time, and the copper component rises to the surface over time, eventually giving the seal a green, tarnished patina. Even if it were polished, you¡¯d see the copper¡ªit wouldn¡¯t be so silvery.¡± ¡°All right, well, thanks again, Elliot. I¡¯ll think hard about this box, and if I decide to sell it, you¡¯ll be the first to know. Fair?¡± ¡°Certainly, though I do value my time. I¡¯d charge you ten glories or so for the translation, but how about we keep things friendly since we¡¯re about to discuss a possible exchange of words?¡± Ward nodded, then took the box and stuffed it back into his pack by his feet. When he stood, he clutched his grimoire; it looked more impressive than it was, thanks to all the blank pages it contained. ¡°Sure, let¡¯s talk spells.¡± ¡°A moment!¡± Elliot turned and hurried back through his beaded curtain. Grace appeared and hissed, ¡°Be careful, Ward! I don¡¯t trust that g¡ª¡± Suddenly, she was gone, and Elliot returned, proudly holding a thin but heavily rune-inscribed, red leather book. ¡°I have a few wonderful words, traveler. I¡¯m hopeful I can find something to interest you.¡± Ward¡¯s only experience with ¡°exchanging words¡± had been with Maggie back in Tarnish, and she¡¯d been someone he¡¯d felt he could trust. This shifty guy was different, and Ward didn¡¯t even know how to approach the topic without giving too much away. He decided to try letting Elliot lead the way, keeping his cards close to his chest. ¡°Well, what did you have in mind?¡± Elliot¡¯s eyes darted to Ward¡¯s book and then down to his own, cradled in his arms. ¡°Do you want to trade simple words, or do you want to trade full spells? If it¡¯s the former, I have a wider variety. As far as spells go, I have one complete and one that¡¯s partial¡ªI¡¯m sure I have the words right, but the forms need work.¡± The statement intrigued Ward. He¡¯d speculated that, as he mastered the words, he¡¯d be able to use them to construct spells of his own, but it wasn¡¯t as straightforward as knowing what each word meant. As Elliot had just indicated, the act of memorizing the spells, forming them with intention in his mind, required the proper meditative forms, which were a lot less clear. Still, he felt like having complete spells that worked would lead to more understanding than Elliot¡¯s half-figured-out prototype. Frowning and scratching his chin, he slowly nodded. ¡°I think we should deal in complete spells.¡± Ward had three spells, but only one he felt comfortable sharing¡ªthe one he¡¯d gotten from Maggie. He felt like his Reveal Secrets spell was too good, too tailored to his interests. Something in him didn¡¯t want to spread his¡­secret. As for the spell he¡¯d used to bring Haley back, Ward couldn¡¯t put something like that into the hands of a person like Elliot. Ward wasn¡¯t sure why, but he could imagine the guy experimenting with it in all the wrong ways. Though, in all honesty, he doubted he could pull it off. Still, there were some potent words in that spell, and Ward felt that those, in conjunction with the forms, were far too valuable to trade away. All that considered, he was left with ¡°Strike True¡± to bargain with. Deciding he held the upper hand¡ªhe could walk away without too much disappointment, but Elliot looked desperate for the exchange¡ªWard said, ¡°Tell me about your spell, and I¡¯ll see if I have anything worth trading for it.¡± Elliot¡¯s expression remained mostly neutral, but Ward thought he began to blink a little more rapidly as he slowly nodded his head. His gut told him the fellow was nervous. Licking his lips, nodding slowly, Elliot said, ¡°I¡¯ll do better than tell you; I¡¯ll show you.¡± He turned away from the counter and reached for a small brass knob in the wall. He turned it, and the gas lamps illuminating the shop shrank to almost nothing, throwing the space into deep shadows. ¡°It won¡¯t work in the light.¡± Ward frowned, resting his hand on Blazewitch¡¯s stock, his finger just an inch or two from the trigger. Elliot was giving him seriously bad vibes; the shifty little man reminded him of a sociopath he¡¯d interviewed once in an arson investigation¡ªsomeone who¡¯d been setting fire to houseboats in Portage Bay. ¡°Don¡¯t do anything stupid, Elliot,¡± he growled, and the man shot him another nervous glance.The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. ¡°Nothing of the sort, sir. You¡¯ll understand why the lights had to be dimmed when I show you the spell. You see, shadows are a requirement.¡± Ward continued to frown, but Elliot moved back to the counter, directly facing him, and carefully opened his spellbook. With the cover facing Ward, he turned to a specific page. ¡°As I said, it¡¯s a spell that requires deep shadows. It¡¯s called ¡®Shadow Step,¡¯ after all. I, well, I have it prepared, so I don¡¯t really need my book open.¡± His voice was strange, monotone, as though he were trying to avoid any inflection. He laid his leather-bound book face-down, then nodded. ¡°Are you prepared to hear the words, Ward? Must you guard your ears?¡± Ward couldn¡¯t stifle his, perhaps, overly confident chuckle. ¡°I¡¯ll be fine.¡± Elliot nodded, gathered his breath, and then, with a strained, red face, ground out two words that seemed to fight their way from his guts, pulling flesh along with them, ¡°Dhrak Vel!¡± The sorcerer-alchemist¡¯s lips flecked with blood, and capillaries burst in his eyes, but then the words, echoing strangely, seemed to fill the air, and dark wisps of palpable shadow swirled up around him, and he was gone. ¡°What the¡ª¡± Ward¡¯s words were cut short as a razor-sharp blade touched his neck just below his chin. He could feel the fine edge scraping along the stubble of his beard. Elliot¡¯s hoarse, ragged whisper sounded in his ear, ¡°Open your spellbook, Ward, and place it on the counter. Do so, and I¡¯ll allow you to leave with your life.¡± Ward¡¯s first instinct was to elbow the guy or grab his wrist, but he stopped his reflexive response and forced himself to reconsider; this wasn¡¯t Earth. This strange man knew magic, and he was clearly an asshole. He wouldn¡¯t risk Ward turning the tables on him; rather, he¡¯d slit Ward¡¯s throat and try to figure out what he could from his corpse. Ward knew he wouldn¡¯t let him go, either. The only thing he had going for him was that his spellbook was closed and required him to open it. Very slowly, he slid the book onto the counter, drawing out the motion, hoping Elliot would become impatient and do something stupid. That was when Grace, in a rather perky voice, announced from behind them both, ¡°My goodness! The service in this shop has gone downhill.¡± Elliot gasped, and Ward felt the pressure of the blade on his neck loosen slightly, so he reached up and wrapped his fingers around Elliot¡¯s wrist in a crushing grip, jerking the knife away from his throat. Elliot gasped again, perhaps more in pain than surprise this time, and Ward twisted his wrist, driving the much slighter man toward the hardwood floor. ¡°My arm!¡± he cried. As Ward continued to twist, furious that the little asshole had gotten the jump on him, furious that he¡¯d let a shifty little creep cast a spell in front of him, Grace continued to taunt the man, ¡°Does your arm hurt, baby? Maybe you should think about that before you threaten a man¡¯s life! Maybe you shouldn¡¯t be playing with magic you can barely comprehend!¡± ¡°Wh-who are¡ªAck!¡± he cried as Ward vented his frustration on his arm, twisting until something in his elbow cracked. As Elliot sobbed, Ward pressed his boot into his back, holding him face down. ¡°Thanks,¡± he muttered, nodding to Grace. ¡°Get his spell. He doesn¡¯t deserve it.¡± ¡°N-no! Please!¡± ¡°Shut up, or I¡¯ll take your life, too.¡± Ward was red-faced with rage. He wanted to hit something¡ªangrier with himself than the little creep. He forced himself to take a calming breath, then turned to the counter. Sure enough, the idiot had left his book open, face down. He jerked his thumb at Grace, nudging Elliot with his boot. ¡°You see that woman?¡± Between sobs, Elliot looked at Grace, sitting daintily on the countertop, her bare feet swinging. ¡°Yes,¡± he whimpered. ¡°Make a move, and she¡¯ll burn you from the inside out. Look at her eyes! She¡¯s a fire sorceress!¡± Elliot said something, but it was too garbled by his sobs to understand. Ward dropped his limp, twisted arm and turned to pick up the other man¡¯s spellbook. ¡°I¡¯m going to take this spell.¡± Ward read the page to ensure it had the correct words¡ªDhrak Vel¡ªin the title. It did, and, more than that, it had the forms diagramed in neat, clear notations beneath the spell description. He tugged it free from the spellbook, ripping the page from the binding but careful not to tear anything important. ¡°No!¡± Elliot cried again, genuine tears pouring from his bloody eyes. As Ward flipped through the other pages, noting rambling diatribes about possible words of power but no other pages of neat printing like the one he¡¯d torn free, Grace said, ¡°You should lock the door, Ward.¡± The admonition drove home the seriousness of the situation. To a witness who wandered in, it would surely look like Ward was robbing the place. If he left Elliot to spin a tale, it could look bad for him. Not only could the man describe him, but he knew his name. ¡°You know what? Screw this.¡± Ward slammed the sloppy spellbook shut, then reached down to grasp Elliot by the back of his arm, wrapping his fingers around his slender biceps. Eliciting another yelp of pain and more sobs, he yanked the would-be thief to his feet. ¡°What are you doing?¡± Grace asked, hopping down from the counter. ¡°Watch him for a sec.¡± He winked at her. ¡°If he moves, immolate him.¡± Grace¡¯s eyes seemed to flare more brightly as she moved closer to Elliot. ¡°Do it, little man. Move! I¡¯ve been wanting to burn something!¡± While Grace toyed with his prisoner, Ward stuffed his new spell into his spellbook and tucked it safely away into his backpack. He slung the pack on, put his hand on Blazewitch¡¯s stock, then prodded the thick barrel into Elliot¡¯s back. ¡°Come on, asshole. I¡¯m turning you in to the city watch.¡± Elliot protested and begged, but Ward marched him out of the shop, taking a moment to turn the sign to read ¡°Closed¡± as they exited. ¡°If you try to run or even attempt to lie to the watch, I¡¯m going to end you, Elliot, and I¡¯ll call it a sorcerer¡¯s duel. Nobody in this town is going to argue.¡± ¡°I wonder if maybe you should just do that anyway, Ward¡ª¡± ¡°That moment¡¯s passed. At least unless he messes up.¡± Ward prodded Elliot. ¡°Straight to the, uh, city watch station.¡± He had no idea what to call the place. Barracks? ¡°The guardhouse, sir?¡± ¡°Yes. Let¡¯s move.¡± He prodded him again, and Elliot, right shoulder slumped, head down, shuffled down the street. Several people stared at them as they passed, but a glare from Ward, his eyes glowing in the shadows of his hat, reminded them that it wasn¡¯t any of their business. A member of the city watch caught Ward¡¯s eye when they came to the far side of the market, walking toward the corner of Main Street again. ¡°Walk over to that guardswoman.¡± Elliot stumbled forward, and when the woman in her maroon tabard and conical helm understood that Ward was marching him at gunpoint, she leaned her spear against the wall and unslung a blunderbuss from her back. ¡°What ¡®av we ¡®ere, gentlemen?¡± Elliot croaked, ¡°This man attacked¡ª¡± Ward stepped closer to him and gripped the back of his neck, jostling him. ¡°Quiet, you rat!¡± He looked at the woman and saw her skeptical look. Her eyebrows narrowed dangerously. ¡°I¡¯ll ask again. What ¡®av¡ª¡± ¡°This man tried to relieve me of a precious belonging as I perused the shop where he works¡ªRaskin¡¯s Alchemy.¡± ¡°My uncle¡¯s shop!¡± Ward shook his neck again. ¡°Quiet! As he said, it¡¯s his uncle¡¯s shop, or I¡¯d have killed him for his thievery, and I would have been within my rights, as we¡¯re both on the Road.¡± The guardswoman surprised Ward by shrugging. ¡°Well, then what ya need me for?¡± ¡°N-no!¡± Elliot cried. ¡°I didn¡¯t accept any duel!¡± ¡°You held a knife to my throat, you little weasel,¡± Ward growled. ¡°Anyway, I didn¡¯t want to kill him in his uncle¡¯s shop, so I figured I¡¯d hand him over to you folks. If you don¡¯t want him, I could take him out the city gates and put an end to this¡ª¡± ¡°No! Please! Listen, Ward, sir, I made a mistake. I don¡¯t want to¡ª¡± ¡°Oh, bother! I¡¯ve seen ¡®nuff. Jus¡¯ ¡®and ¡®im over, then.¡± The woman slung her blunderbuss back over her shoulder and reached out to grasp Elliot¡¯s wounded arm. He screamed bloody murder when she tugged on it. ¡°Got a sore arm, then? Why di¡¯nt ya say so?¡± She grasped his other arm. ¡°I¡¯ll put ¡®im in lockup. If ya want to file a criminal report, follow along.¡± ¡°And if I don¡¯t?¡± ¡°Then we¡¯ll kick ¡®im loose after his thought over his rotten ways for a few days.¡± Ward nodded. ¡°Good enough for me.¡± The woman shrugged, picked up her spear, and marched Elliot away, up the street toward the city gates. He tried to remember if he¡¯d seen a ¡°guardhouse¡± there but couldn¡¯t place it in his memory. ¡°That worked out all right. You¡¯ve got a new spell, and if we were criminally inclined, we could probably go and empty out that alchemy shop¡ª¡± ¡°Grace, c¡¯mon. We¡¯re trying to do ¡®good,¡¯ remember?¡± She nodded, rubbing her chin, the fire in her eyes dimming slowly. ¡°Right. Right. Of course. That wasn¡¯t his shop, so we¡¯d only be punishing poor Raskin. He¡¯s already got to deal with having an absolute creep for a nephew.¡± ¡°Exactly.¡± Ward sighed and leaned against the brick wall of a nearby building¡ªa leather shop. ¡°Damn, Grace. If that guy hadn¡¯t been able to see you, we might have been in trouble. Nice distraction!¡± ¡°Well, it seems likely that most people with ¡®the touch¡¯ can see and hear me. Whatever happened to Haley gave her the same ability. Anyway, even without my help, I bet you would have figured out a way to get the upper hand. That guy wasn¡¯t too clever.¡± ¡°Sometimes the dumbest people do the worst damn things, Grace. It didn¡¯t feel good having that knife on my throat.¡± She clapped him on the shoulder and clicked her tongue at him. ¡°C¡¯mon Ward. Let¡¯s go have a couple of beers while we wait for Haley. You can check out that spell a little more closely.¡± Ward nodded, already imagining the taste of cold ale on his tongue. ¡°Sounds like a plan.¡± 2.9 Stories We Tell 9 ¨C Stories We Tell Back at the tavern across from their inn, Ward sat in a dim corner, sipping a cold beer while he studied the spell he¡¯d taken from Elliot. The words weren¡¯t uncomfortable for him to look at, and he figured he had a good chance of casting the spell without any risks. He¡¯d know for sure after he memorized it. The spell¡¯s description was a note written in neat, printed letters. For the third or fourth time, Ward scanned through it: A Step Through Shadows- A clever combination of the words, a spell of convenience or urgency, a way to move without the constraints of your physical form. Move no more than your vessel can withstand¡ªa step too far will take a toll in blood. Too much light or its absence will result in failure. As he fastened the spell into his grimoire¡¯s binding, he glanced at Grace. ¡°I think this spell was a little too much for Elliot; it looked like he coughed up some blood when he said the words.¡± ¡°He was certainly desperate to get your book. Was it just greed? Why wouldn¡¯t he simply conduct the trade?¡± ¡°Yeah. Greed, I suspect. Maybe frustration. He seemed pretty miserable.¡± Grace occupied the other seat at the table, and with his back to most of the other patrons, Ward didn¡¯t feel strange speaking to her in a low voice. ¡°You think Haley will be much longer?¡± ¡°I¡¯ve no idea.¡± She lazily traced her fingertip through the condensation on the battered tabletop. ¡°Who knows how long it takes to grasp the fundamentals of a new Gopah form?¡± ¡°Well,¡± Ward tossed back the last of his beer, ¡°I¡¯m heading up to the room. I want to try this new spell out.¡± Grace didn¡¯t object, and soon, Ward was sitting on the wooden planks of their little hotel room, growling and cussing as he worked his way through the awkward meditative poses of the new spell. Like his first two spells, this one¡¯s forms were all performed while on the ground, and though uncomfortable at first, they began to click into place for him after just a few tries. The whole process probably took a tenth of the time it took him to prepare his first spell, but he supposed much of that was due to his improved ability to find his center and focus on the rhythm of his heart. More than that, he was familiar with the whole process; he ensured he grasped each form before trying to put them together and memorized their timing before getting started. All in all, it took him less than an hour before the new spell was there, in his mind, ready to be released. ¡°How does it look?¡± Grace asked when he stood and brushed his pants off. ¡°The words are dark and slippery, trying to slide away from my attention as soon as I focus on them. Yeah, they¡¯re weird, but they don¡¯t look dangerous.¡± ¡°Try it!¡± Grace jumped up and ran over to the gas lamp affixed to the wall but couldn¡¯t interact with it. Instead, she hopped on her bare toes until Ward groaned and complied, twisting the knob until the room was thrown into deep shadow. ¡°Wait!¡± Grace cried, ¡°You don¡¯t have any healing tonics.¡± ¡°Shit. Well, as I said, it doesn¡¯t look dangerous.¡± Ward didn¡¯t wait for another objection. He took a deep breath and said, ¡°Dhrak Vel!¡± The words rolled off his silver tongue like butter, carrying a very different note than when Elliot had choked them out. As they echoed and swirled, gathering shadows, Ward¡¯s vision changed. Instead of deep shadows interspersed with flickering orange-yellow light cast by the lamp, everything turned gray, and the shadows melted away, revealing even the deepest corners of the room. ¡°Ward! You disappeared!¡± Grace squealed, clapping her hands together. With no one else to practice on, Ward took a step, and it felt weird¡ªlike he was pushing through thick air. He held his hand up and saw strange wisps of smoky shadow drifting away from his pale, gray flesh, and as he stared, he realized he could faintly see through it. He was translucent! Ward took another step, moving to the side of Grace, and the step felt a little more difficult than the first. Two more steps, the fourth being almost painful as he strained, put him behind her, and then he reached out to tap her shoulder. His finger went through her. ¡°I think¡ªI don¡¯t think I¡¯m solid,¡± he said, and Grace jumped, whirling to look behind her with wide eyes. ¡°You moved? Did you teleport? I still can¡¯t see you!¡± ¡°No, I walked behind you, but I couldn¡¯t touch you. How¡¯d Elliot¡­¡± Ward frowned, realization dawning on him. Elliot had ended the spell so he could pull his knife and threaten Ward. How though? ¡°I feel like if I try to move anymore, it¡¯s going to injure me, but how do I end the damn spell?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know! Can you still see it in your head?¡± Ward turned his attention into that weird space where he could see the words, and, sure enough, they still floated there, though far fainter than before he¡¯d cast the spell. ¡°Yeah.¡± ¡°Um, shoot, I don¡¯t know, Ward. Can¡¯t you feel the magic somehow?¡± Before he could answer, Ward¡¯s vision flickered and returned to normal. As relief flooded him, Grace grinned and ran forward to punch him in the chest. ¡°You did it!¡± ¡°Nah, the spell just wore off. Maybe it just lasted a little longer for me than Elliot.¡± ¡°Maybe, but it would be good to know how to cancel a spell at the right moment.¡± Ward nodded. She made an excellent point. ¡°Maybe there¡¯s a spell for that. Like, uh, dispel magic or something.¡± ¡°Maybe. You need a mentor. I wonder if Maggie would know about that.¡± ¡°I dunno, but I¡¯m not going back to Tarnish anytime soon.¡± He sat back down on the floor. ¡°Let me prepare my other spells.¡± He spent another twenty minutes memorizing his Reveal Secrets spell, but when he tried to memorize Strike True, he found it impossible to concentrate on the words and forms. He kept slipping out of meditation, and, in a frustrated fit, he punched the wooden floorboards, growling. Grace had been lying on his bed, idly humming something while she studied the ceiling, but she looked up at his little outburst. ¡°What?¡± ¡°I can¡¯t focus. I can¡¯t get this spell to stick!¡± ¡°Which spell?¡± ¡°Strike True.¡± ¡°What about the other? The secrets one?¡± Ward sighed and flopped back, folding an arm behind his head. ¡°I memorized that one. I¡¯ve got it and the Shadow Step one ready.¡± ¡°Maybe that¡¯s your limit. Maybe you can¡¯t prepare every spell you ever learn all at once.¡± ¡°Huh.¡± Ward rubbed his eyes, bleary from too much concentration, and sat back up. ¡°I think you¡¯re right. Shadow Step and Reveal Secrets are both more difficult spells. I bet it¡¯s all my brain can take right now. I mean, until I improve somehow.¡± ¡°Maybe your vessel capacity? Or maybe it¡¯s something that doesn¡¯t show up on your hemograph. Shoot! Weren¡¯t you going to shop for a better one?¡± ¡°I mean, I did. I spent a shitload on the one I¡¯ve got. I don¡¯t want to dip into Haley¡¯s money any more than I have to, so another upgrade¡¯s gonna have to wait. I already owe her a thousand for Blazewitch.¡± Grace sat up on the bed and pointed to the door. ¡°Someone¡¯s coming.¡± The knob rattled, and Ward leaped up, grabbing his new alchemical firearm off the foot of his bed. His alarm was for naught. When the door opened wide, Haley stepped in, reaching up to pull her silky blue cowl back. ¡°Hello! New weapon?¡± Ward smiled and set Blazewitch back down. ¡°Yeah. I owe you a thousand glories.¡± Her eyebrows shot up, but her smile didn¡¯t falter. ¡°Is that so?¡± Grace padded over the wooden floor to her. ¡°You look happy, Haley!¡± ¡°I¡¯ve been doing Gopah all afternoon, so, yes, I¡¯m feeling good!¡± ¡°Well? How¡¯d it go?¡± Ward pressed. Haley¡¯s smile broadened, and she put her hands on her hips, standing a little taller. ¡°I have a basic understanding of the form¡ªenough to continue practicing on my own.¡±The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. ¡°That¡¯s great!¡± Ward stepped forward, meaning to clap her on the shoulder, but she stretched out her arms for a hug, and he pulled her close, smiling at her warmth; she was like a little furnace. ¡°Damn, you¡¯ve built up some heat.¡± She nodded into his chest, inhaling deeply. ¡°I had a wonderful day.¡± When she stepped back and looked up at him, she asked, ¡°What about you? Was it eventful?¡± Grace laughed. ¡°Wait until we tell you about Elliot.¡± That evening, over dinner at the tavern, Ward and Grace told Haley all about their encounter with Elliot and the spell Ward ¡°acquired¡± from him. Ward also handed over the glories from the sale of her parents¡¯ mine shares, and though she protested, Haley took the pouch and tucked it safely into her leather vest, but not before pulling out two hundred glories and pushing them toward Ward. She winked when he opened his mouth to object and said, ¡°Add it to what you owe me.¡± ¡°You¡¯re feeling so much better!¡± Grace laughed. ¡°Yes! I¡¯m sure my detached languor will return in the morning, but I¡¯m determined to advance through the Gopah ranks, which means I¡¯ll need to practice often. Now that I know how much it helps, I¡¯m much heartened about my situation.¡± ¡°That¡¯s great, Haley.¡± Ward showed his approval of her attitude by tucking into his creamy pork and greens¡ªa dish he never would have suspected would taste so good. The next day, true to her word, Haley woke before Ward and silently began to go through her forms. Despite her efforts not to make noise, her movements and breathing were different enough from the sounds of sleeping that they woke him anyway. He didn¡¯t say anything, not wanting to discourage her, and just laid in bed for a while, waiting for her to finish. When she padded into the bathroom, Ward got up and got dressed. When Haley emerged from the bathroom, also dressed for the day, he greeted her with, ¡°Good morning! How are you feeling?¡± ¡°Not as good as yesterday. Please don¡¯t ask me that every day!¡± When Ward¡¯s smile faltered. She added, ¡°I¡¯m sorry. It¡¯s just¡­¡± ¡°Irritating when a guy constantly reminds you about a problem you¡¯d rather forget?¡± Ward forced his smile back to his lips and stood up. ¡°I get it, don¡¯t worry. Ready to kick this popsicle stand?¡± The night before, in the tavern, Ward had gotten wind of a cargo vessel leaving for Westview, and the man, who claimed to be the cargo master¡¯s apprentice, swore they¡¯d have no trouble finding a berth if they arrived before noon¡ªthe ship would leave at the evening high tide. She frowned at him, perhaps puzzled by his colloquialism, but her response indicated she got the gist: ¡°I¡¯m ready to leave, personally, but I don¡¯t know what to do about the horses. If there¡¯s a chance they won¡¯t be allowed on the living ship, I¡¯d hate to put them through a sea voyage for nothing.¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± Ward reached for his hat, setting it atop his head. ¡°I was thinking about that yesterday. I wonder if one of the farms outside the city¡ª¡± ¡°That would be fine for Nutmeg, but Wind Queen was bred to run. She¡¯s a racer!¡± ¡°Well, wouldn¡¯t she want to be with Nutmeg?¡± Haley sighed, slinging her cloak over her shoulders. ¡°Probably. I¡¯d sell them for a discount if the buyer would promise to keep them together. Wind Queen¡¯s worth a pretty glory.¡± ¡°Let¡¯s go talk to the stable guys. They might point us in the right direction.¡± ¡°Ward, we only have the morning! What if we miss the ship?¡± ¡°Hey,¡± Ward chuckled, shaking his head, ¡°relax, would you? If we miss this ship, we¡¯ll get the next one.¡± He slung his backpack on, watched Haley pick hers up, and then led the way downstairs and out to the stables next door. Haley had been the one checking on the horses, and she knew the stable hands better than Ward did, so he stood back and let her do the talking. She nodded her cowled head at the boy on duty, taking and fetching mounts, but gestured toward the closed door in the back of the tack room. ¡°Is Roy in?¡± ¡°Yes¡¯m. I¡¯ll fetch him.¡± The boy ran off, tapping at the door, and a few seconds later, a stocky fellow with a grizzled beard that seemed to blend into his hair¡ªall the same length of about an inch¡ªstepped out, adjusting the straps of his stained suspenders. Haley waved. ¡°Hi, Roy.¡± The man brightened visibly at the sound of her voice and hurriedly approached. ¡°Miss Haley, ain¡¯t it nice to see you this morning.¡± He looked Ward up and down, not an ounce of recognition in his eyes. ¡°Sir.¡± Ward nodded, but Haley was done with niceties. ¡°Roy, we¡¯re bound to Westview, and I¡¯m not sure I want to put the horses through all that. Can you recommend someone who might want to buy them? I¡¯m loathe to leave them behind, but I want what¡¯s best for them. You understand that, right? I want someone who loves horses to ride Wind Queen.¡± ¡°Oh, dear me, Miss Haley! Wind Queen¡¯s the finest horse I¡¯ve had stabled here in a good long while. I¡¯d offer to buy her myself if I could afford such a fine mount. You¡¯re right, though; that¡¯s a horse that needs to run. She¡¯s been giving Tommy a run for his money when he walks her ¡®round the lot. There¡¯s a couple big horse families in Port Granite, folks who travel to races and whatnot. I¡¯d steer you away from Dame Traven ¡®cause I¡¯ve seen her boys working them horses, and they ain¡¯t gentle. Mr. Lansden would be who I¡¯d sell to.¡± ¡°He¡¯s kind to his horses?¡± ¡°Oh, aye! They live better¡¯n I do!¡± Haley smiled, nodding. ¡°Could you tell me how to find his stables?¡± ¡°My pleasure!¡± Ward tuned out the rest of the conversation, figuring Haley had things in hand. After a few minutes, Roy and his assistant brought the horses out, and Ward saw the grizzled stablemaster¡¯s eyes light up when Haley gave him his payment. He thanked her profusely, and then they rode the horses out of the city and toward the country estates they¡¯d passed on their way into town. Haley set a leisurely pace, and Ward had the feeling she was taking her time, savoring what was probably going to be her last ride with Wind Queen. ¡°Maybe we can just pay them to board her. I mean, maybe you¡¯ll want to come back here someday and¡ª¡± ¡°No, it¡¯s okay, Ward. I love this horse, but I rode her less and less over the last couple of years. Gopah and my preparations for the challenges took priority for me. She deserves better. She¡¯s only got a few of her prime running years left. Maybe she¡¯ll win a race. Maybe Mr. Lansden will find her a proper stud, and she¡¯ll foal.¡± Ward saw she wasn¡¯t upset when she glanced at him, so he nodded. ¡°Hopefully, Nutmeg will be happy too.¡± ¡°It¡¯s beautiful country around here. He¡¯ll be happy as long as he gets to roam a bit. He¡¯s a proper gentleman¡¯s horse, so maybe they¡¯ll take him into town on occasion.¡± ¡°You think there¡¯s a chance he won¡¯t want to buy ¡®em?¡± ¡°If he¡¯s a horseman, he¡¯d be a fool not to want Wind Queen. Nutmeg¡¯s a bonus.¡± Haley sounded confident, and it turned out she was right. The stablemaster at the Lansden farm tried to buy Wind Queen before Haley had even dismounted or made her pitch. They never met Mr. Lansden, but the farm was idyllic, the stables were clean and well-staffed, and Haley didn¡¯t bargain hard. Overall, the stablemaster acted like Haley was doing him a favor by selling Wind Queen for a ¡°paltry¡± nine thousand glories. He bought Nutmeg for twelve hundred and a promise to let him exercise with Wind Queen a few times a week. Haley wrapped up the negotiations by saying, ¡°I¡¯ve done your stables a favor today, Mr. Gilroy, so I expect you to return the favor by treating these two horses like family.¡± Her voice was grave, and her eyes looked hard and severe in the depths of her hood. Still, the man looked at Ward, glancing up at his luminescent eyes beneath the brim of his hat as he slowly nodded. ¡°Aye, ma¡¯am. I can assure you that we treat all our horses better than most folks treat each other. They¡¯ll be well cared for.¡± As he and Haley shook hands, Ward cleared his throat and jerked his thumb toward the distant city wall. ¡°Any chance for a lift back to town?¡± Mr. Gilroy was all too happy to have one of his hands drive them back to town in a wagon. It had passenger seats, but it bumped and jostled Ward so badly that he hopped out before they even got to the gates and walked alongside it. Haley didn¡¯t look any more comfortable, but she waited until they passed into the city to climb out and toss a silver, five-glory coin to the stable hand. Ward looked at her face as she watched the man¡¯s wagon trundle away. She didn¡¯t seem overly sad, but he couldn¡¯t imagine she was happy to see Wind Queen go; the horse was one of her last links to her parents. He put an arm over her shoulders and steered her down Main Street toward the center of town. He figured the street probably went all the way down to the docks. ¡°You good?¡± She shrugged under his arm. ¡°I think so.¡± ¡°They¡¯re going to be happy out there. You saw all those pastures and exercise rings.¡± ¡°I know, but I¡¯m going to miss her. Even when I stopped riding her regularly, I always knew she was there.¡± An involuntary shudder ran through her, and she reached up to rub at her eyes. Ward knew she was thinking about her parents, but he didn¡¯t want to say something that might make it worse. ¡°Hey, you know what the great thing is about leaving friends behind?¡± She sniffed and looked up at him. ¡°What?¡± ¡°Well, you get to write the rest of their story in your head. I¡¯m pretty sure, come spring, Wind Queen¡¯s gonna win a few races. Then, if I¡¯m not wrong, I bet she¡¯s going to have a baby¡ªWhat do you call ¡®em? Foals?¡± Haley sniffed and forced a small smile. ¡°That¡¯s right. They don¡¯t ¡®have babies,¡¯ they foal.¡± ¡°All right, well, she¡¯s going to foal a little boy horse.¡± Ward was being purposefully obtuse, hoping to get a better smile out of her. It worked. She barked a genuine laugh and elbowed Ward in the ribs. ¡°You¡¯re so strange! The word is ¡®colt,¡¯ Ward!¡± ¡°Okay, well, she¡¯s going to foal a colt, and that colt is going to grow up to be a mighty stallion named Wind King!¡± He squeezed her shoulders again, pulling her into his side, then let her go as she inhaled deeply and sighed a long, shaky, cleansing breath. ¡°I like that story. Promise me you¡¯ll tell it to me again, but next time, let¡¯s have a few more details.¡± Suddenly, Grace was walking in front of them, backward, of course, so that she could look at them. ¡°I liked it too, but I think you¡¯re right. Next time, we need details about the races she wins, and I¡¯m very interested to know about the lucky stallion that gets to be Wind King¡¯s dad!¡± ¡°Sire, Grace!¡± Haley laughed. Grace winked at Haley. ¡°I know, but Ward doesn¡¯t. I¡¯m trying to keep things simple for the poor old guy.¡± Ward groaned. ¡°If I buy a steamer trunk for the passage, do you think I could put you inside it, Grace? Is there any way to do that? Like, can I put a circle of salt around you to keep you in place?¡± ¡°Ward!¡± Haley punched him in the shoulder. ¡°Don¡¯t treat Grace like that!¡± ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Haley, that won¡¯t work on me. I¡¯m bound to Ward. Honestly, if I didn¡¯t have a host, salt would disrupt my ethereal form. It works on lots of entities lacking a vessel.¡± ¡°Seriously?¡± Ward had just been joking. He couldn¡¯t even remember where he¡¯d heard about salt circles¡ªprobably some movie or campy TV show. ¡°Seriously. Also, bodies of water with any sort of current. I couldn¡¯t make this journey if I weren¡¯t bound to you.¡± As they spoke, they crossed through the Main Square, and the street gained a decidedly downward slope. After they rounded a slight bend, Ward paused and pointed. ¡°Look at that.¡± Ahead of them stretched the endless-seeming dark blue waters of the Cobalt Sea. Much closer, past hundreds of brick and wood buildings, were the warehouses and piers of the port that gave Port Granite its name. Ships of all sizes and types crowded the docks, with the largest, steam-driven vessels far out from the others on mile-long boardwalk piers. Even if his eyes hadn¡¯t improved with his ¡°refinement,¡± Ward believed he could have seen the ship they were looking for. It was an enormous black and red-painted steamer with the words ¡°Crab¡¯s Bounty¡± painted on the gunwales in giant white lettering. ¡°Well,¡± he said, starting forward again, ¡°there¡¯s our ride.¡± 2.10 A Fated Encounter 10 ¨C A Fated Encounter The steam-powered cargo ship was a big vessel, though not nearly as large as a cruise ship Ward had once spent two summertime weeks on as it traversed the Caribbean. The captain himself met with them near the end of the busy gangplank as his men carried and wheeled crates and barrels aboard the vessel, taking them below decks to, presumably, a very large cargo hold. The captain was a grizzled, swarthy man who wore a well-stained blue uniform jacket over a sweat-soaked linen shirt. When Ward and Haley approached him, he tilted up the brim of his tricorn hat and eyed them both appraisingly. ¡°What¡¯s this, then?¡± His gaze drifted to their packs, and his lips pursed slightly as he began to nod. ¡°Seeking passenger berths? Won¡¯t come cheap at this late hour.¡± ¡°Really?¡± Ward put his hands on his hips and turned to regard the big metal vessel. The paint was worn through all along the hull, and he saw great streaks of rust, even up on the towering steam stacks. ¡°I¡¯d think you¡¯d be glad to make a few glories for your empty cabins before you left port.¡± ¡°Well, my cabins ain¡¯t empty. Oh, aye, I can make room for ye, but it''s like to be more trouble than it¡¯s worth.¡± Grace had made herself scarce as they approached the large milling crowds on the docks, but Ward could imagine what she¡¯d say¡ªsomething about the guy trying to drive a hard bargain, but that Ward should stick to their plan. He glanced at Haley, and she shrugged, playing her part well. ¡°We understand, sir. Thank you for your trouble.¡± She turned to leave, and Ward just shrugged at the captain and followed suit. ¡°Now, ¡®old on a minute. As I said, I could clear a space for you.¡± ¡°Oh, if it¡¯ll mean trouble for you, don¡¯t worry, Captain.¡± Ward smiled and gestured toward the city. ¡°We¡¯ll get a room and wait for a passenger liner.¡± ¡°Nah, nah!¡± He waved his hand, motioning for Ward to come closer, ¡°You¡¯re all packed up! Miss, please come over here, and we can discuss a berth for you.¡± Haley, already several steps away, turned and looked at Ward. He nodded and clapped the captain on the shoulder. ¡°Let¡¯s see what the good captain can offer.¡± Haley frowned, peering out of her deep cowl as she adjusted her backpack straps. ¡°I quite enjoyed our inn, Ward. I wouldn¡¯t mind another day of rest.¡± ¡°Nah, you don¡¯t want to wait around here, miss! My Bounty¡ªshe¡¯s a sturdy vessel, and I know all the best sea lanes at this time of year. We¡¯ve got winter storms blowing in, and some of them passenger liners are captained by men more accustomed to a fine dinner than a rough night on the sea. Trust me, you¡¯re better off on this solid old girl.¡± He turned to Ward. ¡°Ward, was it?¡± ¡°That¡¯s right, Captain¡­¡± ¡°LeGrande, but you can call me Captain Lemon, as I earned that monicker when I brought the world¡¯s largest citrus harvest up from Fona Vie just a few years back. I¡¯m practically a legend around these parts!¡± He turned to some deckhands hauling a precarious-looking oblong crate up the gangway. ¡°Careful, you sods! That¡¯s going to tip off to the side if you don¡¯t turn it!¡± ¡°What kind of fee¡ª¡± Ward started to ask, but the captain spoke over him. ¡°I¡¯ll transport you to Westview for a hundred glories each, and you¡¯ll be welcome at my table for dinner each evening.¡± Ward smiled inwardly at the man¡¯s considerable change in tone. He glanced at Haley questioningly. She stepped a little closer and pulled her hood back, squinting into the gray, overcast sunlight. ¡°How many days?¡± ¡°Betwixt seven and ten, depending on the weather.¡± Haley looked at Ward and nodded. He smiled and clapped the captain¡¯s shoulder again. ¡°Sounds good to us, Captain Lemon.¡± ¡°Right.¡± He nodded, scanning the men working behind Ward, then hollered, ¡°Peter, get over here!¡± A young man wearing nothing but knee-length trousers on his wiry, well-tanned body dropped a sack of grain onto a pallet and jogged over, his bare feet padding on the boardwalk planks. ¡°Captain, sir?¡± ¡°Take these two dandies aboard and show ¡®em to the passenger cabins. Tell Ronny he ain¡¯t gonna have a cabin after all and that he best make himself comfortable in the hold with you and the other lads.¡± ¡°Aye, Captain!¡± The youngster stood straight and jammed his fists down by his hips in an odd sort of salute, then started up the side of the wide gangway. ¡°This way, folks!¡± ¡°Just a minute, lad,¡± the captain said, turning to Ward. ¡°There¡¯s the small matter of the payment¡ª¡± ¡°I¡¯ve got it here.¡± Haley stepped close with her pale hand outstretched. The captain took two golden, one-hundred-glory coins from her and smiled as he bit into one of them. ¡°I do love the glint of gold. Very well! Enjoy the voyage, and I¡¯ll be sure one of the lads invites you when dinner¡¯s put on.¡± Ward nodded, and he and Haley followed Peter up the gangway, carefully giving the porters and deckhands plenty of room. They had to stop twice to lean against the railing, waiting as the hands tugged a large piece of cargo aboard. Peter guided them toward the bow, and Ward took in the large, open deck, wondering if the sailors would strap cargo up there, too, or only in the hold. ¡°Do you all put cargo on deck, or are the storms too rough?¡± ¡°We¡¯ll strap some sturdy crates and barrels up there, sir.¡± As they followed Peter through a doorway and down a short flight of steps into a corridor labeled ¡°Passenger Cabins,¡± Haley asked, ¡°Are there other passengers?¡± ¡°Aye, miss. We¡¯ve quite a few on this run. Don¡¯t worry, though, ¡®cause Captain¡¯s giving you the room Ronny tried to reserve, and it¡¯s one of the better ones.¡± Haley glanced at Ward, and he shrugged, grinning. He didn¡¯t imagine Ronny would be happy, but it also seemed like the situation wasn¡¯t anything new. He imagined the captain allowed some of his higher-ranking deckhands to claim a passenger cabin if they didn¡¯t sell out. They walked down the long corridor, past metallic bulkhead-style doors, until they reached the last one on the left. ¡°Here¡¯s your room, folks. Feel free to wander around the deck, but Captain don¡¯t like passengers poking around below decks. You¡¯ll find the head down that corridor on the right.¡± He looked at Haley, his eyes tracking up and down a little too hungrily for Ward¡¯s taste, before he added, ¡°O¡¯ course, there¡¯s a ladies¡¯ room too, just on the other side of the corridor. Don¡¯t worry, ¡®cause Captain would have the hide off any of us dirty rats who might use it when we got lady passengers aboard.¡± Ward grasped the slender man¡¯s very tan, naked shoulder and steered him away from the door, giving him a bit of a shove down the hallway. ¡°Thanks, Peter. We¡¯re good now.¡± He stared at the man until he nodded and hurried away, jogging barefoot toward the exit. ¡°I wonder if I¡¯m the only woman aboard,¡± Haley said as Ward twisted the wheel to open their door. Grace appeared beside Ward. ¡°Nope! I¡¯m here!¡± ¡°Thanks, Grace, but it¡¯s not the same, considering none of the crew can stare at you.¡± Ward tuned them out, pushing the door open and stepping into their cabin. It wasn¡¯t exactly spacious, but at least it had two bunks, and it didn¡¯t look like the crew members who had intended to stay there had moved in yet. The bunks on either side of the room were occupied by bare, gray, and white striped mattresses, and a single large trunk sat under a porthole-style window. Haley stepped past him and opened the trunk.The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. ¡°Linens.¡± ¡°Well, that¡¯s good. I mean, assuming they¡¯re clean. Are they?¡± Haley picked up a thin gray blanket and sniffed it. ¡°Seems so!¡± ¡°Makes me feel a little better about the ship; I¡¯d have expected to find rats and lice-ridden blankets.¡± Ward took his hat off and hung it on a hook beside the door, then he and Haley spent a little time unpacking and setting up their bunks. Reclining on his bunk, Ward looked over at Haley. ¡°So, looks like this¡¯ll be home for about a week, eh?¡± ¡°Yes. If we don¡¯t sink.¡± Haley¡¯s tone had taken a definite turn for the gloomy since they¡¯d returned to town. Ward tried to brighten her outlook a little. ¡°I think the fact that the ship looks old and well-used is good. It means it¡¯s made a lot of voyages safely.¡± ¡°I suppose,¡± she sighed. Grace, sitting at the foot of Haley¡¯s bunk, leaned over her and stared into her eyes. ¡°You should find a place to exercise on the deck, Haley. It¡¯s been hours since you did your forms.¡± When Haley closed her eyes and made a disinterested grunt, Ward sat up and reached across the little space to jostle her knee. ¡°Come on. I¡¯ll walk with you and keep you company. You know, chase away the leering crew and whatnot.¡± Haley sighed explosively, then, with a whining groan, sat up. ¡°Fine. If you two are going to pester me constantly, I might as well.¡± ¡°That¡¯s the spirit!¡± Grace clapped. Ward grabbed his hat and gave Blazewitch, sitting atop their trunk, a long look. ¡°Think I need to bring that? You think this room is secure?¡± ¡°There¡¯s a key here, Ward.¡± Grace pointed to a large brass key hanging on a hook next to the door jamb. ¡°Oh! Didn¡¯t notice it.¡± ¡°Yes, you did¡ª¡± ¡°Or Grace couldn¡¯t have seen it,¡± Haley finished, deadpan. ¡°Tough crowd.¡± Ward grabbed the key, slipping it into his pocket. ¡°Let¡¯s go, ladies.¡± After locking up the cabin, he led the way back outside and asked a passing crew member the best area of the deck to get some sun and exercise. He pointed to the rear of the ship and said, ¡°Quarter deck.¡± ¡°Is that the, uh, very back?¡± Ward asked. ¡°Aye, sir. Almost all the way aft, raised up behind the captain¡¯s castle, mid-ship. Just this side of the rear steam stacks.¡± ¡°Thanks.¡± Ward led the way, watching the activity on the gangway as they passed by, noting that the boardwalk pier was still stacked with cargo that needed to be loaded. ¡°They¡¯ll be at it for hours.¡± Grace was gone, and Haley apparently didn¡¯t feel like talking, so Ward filled the silence as they went, ¡°I wish I had something good to read. I should¡¯ve stopped at a bookshop.¡± Again, Haley didn¡¯t respond, so he shrugged and muttered, ¡°Maybe the captain or another passenger has a book I can borrow.¡± The ship¡¯s deck had a waist-high metal railing, and they stuck close to it, wending around what must have been the ¡°captain¡¯s castle.¡± It was a tall section of the ship with a high, open viewing area where Ward figured the ship¡¯s bridge would be. Around the back of that, they climbed a short set of stairs and, just as the crewman had promised, came upon a wide area of decking with little crew activity. The sun was hiding behind gray clouds, but the diffuse light still felt warm to Ward. He shrugged out of his coat, using it as a cushion as he sat down to watch Haley go through her forms. Haley, squinting and grumbling, took off her cloak and handed it to Ward, and he folded it onto his lap. Leaning back against the portside railing, he closed his eyes and tilted his hat brim down, soaking in the diffuse sun rays. After a while, he grew suspicious about Grace¡¯s lack of commentary, but when he looked around, he saw her sitting in the shade of the aft steam stacks, intently watching Haley. ¡°Figure¡¯s,¡± he muttered, then pulled his hat down again. He could hear Haley practicing¡ªher fists and feet snapping out in punches and kicks and her sharp, controlled breaths¡ªand the rhythm of those sounds began to lull him into a midday doze. He was that way, half asleep, when he felt the presence of someone nearby, but his lulled mind figured it was just Grace or a crew member walking by. Then a feminine voice he was sure he¡¯d heard before spoke, ¡°I thought you looked familiar, though your clothes are a good deal nicer than the last time I saw you.¡± Ward tilted his hat and peered up at the woman standing over him. She wore a soft-looking deep blue skirt, a frilly, button-up white blouse, and a very wide-brimmed, floppy felt hat. In the shadows of that hat, her eyes immediately brought his recollection into crystal clarity; it was Lisa, the sorceress he¡¯d briefly met in the Tarnish catacombs. Putting his memory to the test, he said, ¡°Lisa?¡± ¡°You remembered! It¡¯s Ward, isn¡¯t it? May I?¡± She gestured to the deck beside him. ¡°Yeah, sure.¡± Ward sat up a little straighter, shifting so he could watch her gracefully sit down, folding her legs to one side. ¡°Are you a passenger?¡± She nodded emphatically. ¡°I am! Bound for Westview. Don¡¯t tell me you¡¯re going to the challenge there, too?¡± Ward nodded toward Haley, who was still practicing furiously, her body radiating waves of heat into the air around her. ¡°We haven¡¯t decided yet. We¡¯ll be taking a ship to¡­¡± Ward frowned, his mind blanking at the name of the next world. After a second, it clicked, and he quickly added, ¡°Springsea. The next world, I guess.¡± ¡°Oh? That¡¯s exciting! Have you already secured passage?¡± He sighed, shaking his head. ¡°Nah. We¡¯re probably going to have to pay through the teeth.¡± ¡°I¡¯m afraid you may be right. One of the reasons I¡¯m going to Westview is to be present for the auctions. You stand a much better chance of a reasonable price if you¡¯re present and not buying from a third party.¡± Ward nodded as though he knew what she meant. He tried to fish for a little more info, ¡°Yeah, but how often are the auctions?¡± ¡°Once a month! However, the tickets auctioned are for the next month, which means¡ª¡± ¡°You¡¯re stuck in the city for at least a couple of months.¡± ¡°Right¡ªassuming you win an auction. As you said, if you have plenty of money, you can buy from one of the brokers and leave much sooner.¡± She chuckled, reaching up to adjust her floppy, pale-blue hat. ¡°I¡¯m not in that category.¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± Ward sighed. He didn¡¯t want to let on that Haley had so many glories, so he just shrugged. ¡°We¡¯ll probably need to work around the city to earn some money. Might be smart to just wait for one of those auctions.¡± ¡°Well, then, you really ought to think about trying the Westview Spire.¡± Ward narrowed his eyes and, after a moment¡¯s contemplation, decided to stop pretending like he knew more than he did. ¡°Is that the challenge?¡± ¡°Yes! It¡¯s quite different from the catacombs, I hear¡ªmore predictable and both safer and more deadly.¡± ¡°Heh, are you trying to speak in riddles? Is that something sorcerers do? Should I be practicing?¡± Lisa laughed, and Ward liked the sound of it; it was almost musical¡ªa giggle that started in the back of her throat and seemed to get higher-pitched as it trilled out of her mouth. ¡°I suppose I did sound cryptic, didn¡¯t I? Let me try again. The Spire is a tower challenge; each challenger or party of challengers starts at the bottom, climbing a stairway that uses spatial or teleportation magic to separate them into their own¡­version of the challenge. Each level will contain a battle or a puzzle, and they¡¯re supposed to get harder as you progress upwards.¡± ¡°So why is it ¡®both safer and more deadly¡¯?¡± ¡°Safer because you can leave at any level; walking down any stairway will send you back to the entrance chamber. More deadly because the puzzles contain traps, and the battles are life-or-death from the start.¡± ¡°You can leave at any time?¡± She nodded but held up her finger as she clarified, ¡°Only after completing the challenge on each floor. The stairs won¡¯t¡­work until you clear the room.¡± Listening to her, Ward was beginning to feel excited, not about the topic of the conversation¡ªhe wasn¡¯t sure he wanted to do another challenge yet¡ªbut about the prospect of having a friendly, knowledgeable ¡°sorceress¡± on the ship with them. He said as much, ¡°What a nice surprise to find out you''re on this ship! It seems almost too unlikely to be a coincidence.¡± ¡°Not so unlikely! For people on the Road, Westview is the best place to go after Tarnish. There are other challenges on this side of the sea, but they¡¯re even more unpredictable than the catacombs and require long, overland journeys. Besides, I feel like this may be a fated encounter.¡± She smiled, and Ward found her sure, upbeat tone convincing enough. In his old line of work, he gave his gut a lot of credit when it came to sniffing out sketchy characters, and he wasn¡¯t feeling anything off about Lisa. ¡°Well, whatever the likelihood, seeing you again is nice.¡± Lisa smiled and nodded. ¡°I think I saw you and your friend boarding the vessel. Was that a sword on your hip?¡± Ward reflexively patted his belt, feeling for Haley¡¯s sword, but he¡¯d left it tucked under his bunk in their cabin. ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s right.¡± ¡°That¡¯s wonderful! We¡¯ll have so much time on our hands during the voyage, and I¡¯ve been looking for a sparring partner! What do you say?¡± ¡°Oh? You use a sword?¡± She laughed and shook her head, blushing a little. ¡°I took it up after the catacombs. I¡¯ve been taking lessons in Port Granite, but I¡¯ve much to learn.¡± ¡°Seriously? Because I don¡¯t know shit about it. That sword was Haley¡¯s,¡± Ward nodded to her, still ignoring them, snapping her fists in a series of lightning-fast jabs, ¡°but she can¡¯t use it with her Gopah, so she gave it to me. I mean to use¡ªit¡¯s still hers.¡± ¡°Well, if you¡¯re interested, I¡¯d love to try to help you and myself in the process. It looked like a broadsword, and I use a rapier, but several students in my instructor¡¯s class had swords like yours. I can share some of the skills we practiced together¡ªfootwork, positioning, timing, and several types of strokes, parries, and ripostes. I listened to him instructing those other men quite a lot, and I think I could help you with some of the heavier slashing and chopping attacks that aren¡¯t suitable for my rapier.¡± Ward smiled, nodding. ¡°I¡¯d like that.¡± ¡°Well?¡± Lisa gracefully rose to her feet, not even using the handrail to help herself up. ¡°Why not start now? We¡¯ve a few hours until we depart, and I don¡¯t think it¡¯s fair for your partner to do all the hard work!¡± Ward laughed, gripped the railing, and hauled himself up. ¡°Let''s do it.¡± Lisa smiled up at him, her green eyes glimmering in the shadows of her hat. ¡°If we work well together, Ward, perhaps we should consider another sort of trade.¡± She winked and said, very softly, ¡°I mean words.¡± Ward nodded. ¡°Now you¡¯re speaking my language.¡± 2.11 Aboard the Bounty 11 ¨C Aboard the Bounty Later that day, Ward sat in the cabin he shared with Haley and quietly polished his boots. Haley was napping, or at least, she had been, but when he looked up after buffing the dry polish, she was lying on her side, watching him. ¡°Pleasant nap?¡± She stifled a yawn, nodding. ¡°I needed it. It¡¯s been an emotional day, considering the horses and everything.¡± ¡°You really went at it with your Gopah, too.¡± She sighed, rolling onto her back. ¡°I did, and I feel better for it. I noticed you seemed to enjoy your time with Lisa.¡± Ward was sitting sideways on his bunk and nodded as he leaned back against the metal wall. ¡°She¡¯s pretty damn friendly and seems to know quite a bit.¡± Haley grunted as she sat up and faced him. ¡°She seemed rather good with that rapier, natural and graceful. I know you told me she just started learning, but I wouldn¡¯t have thought so. Did she help you much with your sword?¡± ¡°You mean your sword?¡± Ward chuckled and shrugged. ¡°Yeah. I mean, it¡¯s nice to know how to hold it¡ªhow to stand and whatnot. To be honest, I was thinking the same thing as you; she knows a lot more than she lets on. I don¡¯t believe she just started working with that rapier a few weeks ago.¡± ¡°So why would she lie?¡± As she asked the question, Ward looked around, wondering why Grace wasn¡¯t chiming in; she was usually pretty quick to point out people acting suspiciously. ¡°That¡¯s the million-dollar question, Haley. Does she want something? Why wouldn¡¯t she want me to know she¡¯s well-versed in the use of the sword, especially when it¡¯s kind of obvious by watching her.¡± ¡°Well, there¡¯s the chance she¡¯s telling the truth, and she¡¯s just a gifted student. Maybe she¡¯s a quick learner. She seems intelligent.¡± ¡°I like how you try to see the good side of things, Haley, but something in my gut tells me to be a little careful with her.¡± ¡°Your gut.¡± Haley stifled another yawn. ¡°I suppose I¡¯ve seen you make some good use of that feeling. Remember the fire corridor in the catacombs?¡± Ward shook his head ruefully. ¡°Those damn chimes! That place was bad. Uh, that brings up another topic. I don¡¯t think you heard Lisa when she was telling me about the challenge near Westview, did you?¡± Haley¡¯s expression perked up a little, and she leaned closer to him. ¡°No, I didn¡¯t!¡± Ward shifted, rubbing his chin, checking for stray stubble¡ªhe¡¯d just shaved in the communal men¡¯s room. ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s a spire, and, according to her, you can go in alone or with a party. The stairs are magical and keep your group apart from others.¡± ¡°That means we wouldn¡¯t have to fight other challengers!¡± ¡°True¡­¡± He paused, gathering his thoughts. ¡°But each level of the spire¡ªwhat is that, anyway? A tower?¡ªwill have a dangerous puzzle or an encounter with some kind of monstrous thing or another.¡± ¡°Would we have to reach the top?¡± Ward shook his head. ¡°Lisa says you can leave after clearing a room.¡± ¡°Well, that explains a few things.¡± Ward looked at her, puzzled. ¡°Like what?¡± ¡°Well, to start with, at least one of Lisa¡¯s motivations. She wants you to help her with the spire.¡± ¡°She didn¡¯t say¡ª¡± ¡°It¡¯s also rather obvious that she¡¯s attracted to you. Perhaps she¡¯s pretending to be a novice to keep from intimidating you. Girls do that, you know.¡± Haley shrugged. ¡°I used to act like I needed more help than I did when Lem was my Gopah partner back in Tarnish.¡± ¡°Lem?¡± ¡°A boy I liked¡­¡± Her eyes went distant, and she sighed softly as she continued, ¡°I wonder what he¡¯s doing now.¡± Ward snorted. ¡°Well, whatever the case, I¡¯m not sure another challenge is such a good idea; look at the trouble we had in the catacombs!¡± ¡°But look at everything we gained!¡± Haley¡¯s eyes focused on Ward¡¯s, and she spoke with a vehement intensity. ¡°I never would have met you if I hadn¡¯t gone into the catacombs! You wouldn¡¯t have gotten that refinement potion or that spell that reveals secrets! You wouldn¡¯t have gotten that tongue!¡± ¡°Haley, I don¡¯t want to be an asshole and bring up everything we lost, but at least think about your anima!¡± She folded her arms over her chest and leaned back, mimicking Ward¡¯s posture. ¡°My brother was set to go into those catacombs whether I joined him or not. If he¡¯d listened to you and run down those steps, he¡¯d probably be alive today. Anyway, I thought we were supposed to focus on the positive, and we¡¯ve chosen to walk the Road, Ward. If we shun challenges because of fear, then we¡¯ll never walk very far along it.¡± When Ward didn¡¯t respond immediately, she blew out an exasperated breath and growled, ¡°You didn¡¯t lose anything! You¡¯re only worried about me!¡± ¡°I guess that¡¯s fair.¡± Ward shrugged. ¡°I am worried about you. Nothing good happened to you in that challenge, and plenty of bad shit did. I don¡¯t know why you act like meeting me was a good thing, Haley. Your life has gone to hell since you met me.¡± Ward regretted the words as soon as he said them, especially as he watched Haley visibly shut down. She clamped her mouth shut, nodded, then stood up. ¡°I¡¯m going to the ladies¡¯ room.¡± ¡°Hey, wait a min¡ª¡± He choked off his weak attempt to get an apology out as she opened the door and left, ignoring him. ¡°Dammit.¡± Ward thumped his forehead with the back of his fist. ¡°Grace? Are you there?¡± When she didn¡¯t reply, Ward stood up and began to pace back and forth in the narrow aisle between their two bunks. Was he in the wrong? Should he be worrying about Haley, or was he out of line? When you got down to brass tacks, the simple fact of the matter was that if you took away the time they¡¯d spent in a magical coma, he¡¯d only known Haley for a few weeks. What a hell of a few weeks, though! He¡¯d fought with Haley, survived traps with her, and seen her suffer terrible losses. ¡°Hell, I saw her die!¡± He smashed his fist into his palm. He cared about her, and, more to the point, he felt responsible for her. Was he trying to talk her out of the spire because he didn¡¯t want to feel guilty for the next bad thing that happened to her? Was that fair to him or her? She¡¯d been through a hell of a lot more than he had, and she had real reason to want to keep walking the ¡°Road.¡± She and he both needed to gather treasure, gain strength, and learn as much as they could if they were ever going to learn how to recover their anima. The challenges were, undeniably, a good resource if someone was lucky or clever enough to gain their rewards without losing everything in the process. Haley had been absolutely right about Ward; he¡¯d made tremendous gains when you considered everything he¡¯d taken from the catacombs. He¡¯d learned a powerful spell, refined his ¡°vessel,¡± and, as she¡¯d pointed out, wound up with the tongue that Nevkin had found. Ward pressed it against his teeth, futilely trying to prove to himself that it felt different in some way¡ªit didn¡¯t. ¡°There¡¯s the mana-well, too.¡± He lifted his pack, pressing his hand against the round, hard shape near the bottom, reassuring himself that it was still there. He had a feeling the artifact was worth a pretty penny. ¡°Glory,¡± he corrected himself. When the door opened and Haley slipped back inside, Ward said, ¡°Hey, you¡¯re right.¡± He¡¯d found that in an argument, the quickest way to cool things down was to let the other person know you could see their side of things. Haley looked at him, her scowl softening as the words registered. ¡°It¡¯s wrong of me to try to keep you away from the challenges. I gained a shitload, and you paid a shitload. If you want to try to get something worthwhile out of another challenge, then I¡¯ll be by your side.¡± ¡°Truly?¡± ¡°Yeah. Of course.¡± Ward laughed as she slammed into him, grabbing him around the waist for a rib-straining hug. When she released him, Ward brushed some of her loose, feathery black hair away from her eyes as she tilted her face to look up at him.The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. ¡°I was afraid you would leave me to enter the spire with Lisa.¡± Ward clicked his tongue and shook his head. ¡°That¡¯s not gonna happen¡ªever. When we disagree, that doesn¡¯t mean I want to leave you behind. I just need to remember to put myself in your shoes and see things from your perspective. If you¡¯ll do the same for me, I bet we won¡¯t have many arguments. Let¡¯s try to remember that, all right?¡± She nodded emphatically. ¡°I promise.¡± As Ward walked over to look out the porthole, she added, ¡°I don¡¯t mind if you want Lisa to join us, though. I mean, for the spire.¡± Ward watched the deep blue waves rolling by, their tips tinted orange and red by the setting sun. ¡°Yeah, we can consider it. She hasn¡¯t said she wants to join us yet, but I have a feeling you¡¯re right about her wanting some help.¡± He shrugged. ¡°Or maybe not. She might think she¡¯s better off alone.¡± He heard Haley shuffling through her backpack. ¡°We¡¯ll have plenty of time to discuss that. Dinner should be soon.¡± Ward turned to her in time to see her tucking a small silver pocket watch into her pants pocket. She¡¯d dressed in some slim-fitting, soft gray trousers and a button-up white blouse. It was frillier than her usual type of shirt, with little pink and cream-colored flowers embroidered on the collar. ¡°You look nice. I like that shirt.¡± Haley smiled and tried to smooth some wrinkles out of it. ¡°I wish we had a closet. My clothes could stand to be hung up.¡± ¡°You kidding me? You saw the state of the captain¡¯s shirt, right? You look great.¡± ¡°Where¡¯s Grace?¡± Ward frowned, suddenly beginning to feel a little worried. ¡°I haven¡¯t seen her since Lisa showed up, and she made herself scarce. Maybe she fell asleep?¡± Haley nodded slowly. ¡°She was watching me practice until you started talking to Lisa.¡± Suddenly, Grace was there, standing between Ward and Haley, stretching and yawning enormously. ¡°Are you two talking about me?¡± ¡°I was starting to get worried!¡± Ward chuckled, knowing the effect the words would have. Grace whirled to look at him with wide, fiery eyes, her red lips stretching into a self-satisfied smile. ¡°Is that true?¡± Before Ward could answer, she whirled to face Haley. ¡°Was he worried?¡± ¡°I think¡ª¡± Grace whirled back to Ward. ¡°Do you really care, Ward? Would you miss me?¡± Ward sighed heavily, almost feeling sorry for her, even if she was trying to be funny. ¡°Grace, c¡¯mon, we¡¯re friends, remember? Of course, I¡¯d worry about you if you¡ª¡± He didn¡¯t get the rest out as he was, once again, wrapped in a too-tight hug. ¡°Oof! You¡¯re killing me here.¡± He chuckled and patted Grace¡¯s back. He couldn¡¯t help seeing the look on Haley¡¯s face as she watched the two of them; there was a certain happy gleam in her eyes. ¡°Where have you been?¡± Haley asked as Grace finally relented and released Ward. ¡°Um, sleeping. I hid when the green-eyed lady¡ª¡± ¡°Lisa,¡± Haley interjected. ¡°When Lisa showed up. I got bored and fell asleep after that.¡± She shrugged. ¡°Well, we¡¯re about to go to dinner,¡± Ward squeezed past the two women to lift his hat from the hook, ¡°and Lisa¡¯s gonna be there.¡± ¡°Oh great,¡± Grace sighed. ¡°Just stay in my head, enjoy the food, and listen to the conversation, would you? I¡¯d like your opinion about Lisa.¡± ¡°She seemed competent in the catacombs, and I think it¡¯s extraordinarily strange that you¡¯ve run into each other on this cargo ship.¡± Ward sighed. ¡°I meant after dinner.¡± ¡°Let¡¯s go, Ward.¡± Haley opened the door. ¡°We¡¯re going to be late.¡± Ward followed Haley back to the deck, then over to the ¡°captain¡¯s tower,¡± where, one flight of steps up, a crew member directed them into a surprisingly large dining room. A long table with eighteen seats took up most of the space. It was an elegant setting; the table was dressed with a clean ivory-colored linen cloth and set with real silver forks and knives. A crystal chandelier provided the light, and portraits of former captains adorned one wall while a massive painting of a stormy sea dominated the opposite. Nearly a dozen people were already seated, and most nodded subdued greetings while Ward and Haley were directed to their places near the far end of the table. To Ward¡¯s dismay, Lisa was seated on the other end of the table near the captain. When Haley noticed the same thing, she leaned close to him and whispered, ¡°I suppose we¡¯ll have to talk about the challenge another time.¡± ¡°I guess so,¡± Ward sighed. He and Haley were surrounded by other guests, from a businessman traveling to secure a coal mine charter a hundred miles into the ¡°Lonkshal Mountains¡± to a woman whose sister had died recently in Westview. They made small talk about the ocean and motion sickness¡ªsomething Ward and Haley thankfully hadn¡¯t experienced¡ªand about their professions, families, and homes. Ward and Haley mostly listened, but every so often, they¡¯d be drawn into the discussion. About halfway through dinner, one woman, the wife of a textile merchant, looked at Ward and bluntly asked, ¡°So you can do magic, hmm? Strange to see two such on a simple cargo steamer, don¡¯t you think?¡± ¡°Two such?¡± Ward knew she meant Lisa but didn¡¯t like her tone, so he decided to act a bit obtuse. ¡°Witches!¡± She nodded toward the far end of the table where Lisa sat. Haley quickly jumped to Ward¡¯s defense, ¡°That¡¯s a derogatory term. Ward¡¯s a sorcerer and a hero to boot.¡± The woman¡¯s husband, a middle-aged fellow with a long, bushy mustache that made him look like a crabby walrus, cleared his throat and put his hand atop his wife¡¯s arm. ¡°Perhaps you¡¯ve had a bit too much wine, Gerty.¡± He turned to Ward and, sounding like he badly needed to clear a blockage from his throat, added, ¡°Forgive her, sir. She¡¯s nervous about sea travel and has been into her cups since noon.¡± ¡°Raymond!¡± Gerty snapped, ¡°How very like you to undermine me in front of strangers!¡± As if to prove a point, she lifted her glass of wine and gulped it down, staring at Raymond the entire time. ¡°How clever, Gertrude. You¡¯ve certainly outdone yourself tonight. I¡¯m sure everyone will remember this meal fondly.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t be facile, Raymond.¡± She held up her glass, beckoning one of the uniformed wait staff standing ready near the wall. ¡°Another glass of the red, dear.¡± Watching Raymond steel his nerves for another attempt at controlling his wife, Ward decided to try to steer attention away from the feuding couple. ¡°It doesn¡¯t bother me to be called a witch.¡± When everyone turned toward him, he shrugged, adding, ¡°Witch, warlock, wizard, sorcerer, conjurer¡ªthey all mean the same thing to me: I can do magic, and, in my book, that¡¯s pretty damn great.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t you fear for your soul?¡± a smallish man near the end of the table asked, leaning forward to see Ward more clearly. Ward frowned, spearing a roasted carrot with his fork. ¡°Why would I?¡± A narrow-faced man with round glasses and perfectly even bowl-cut bangs in the middle of his forehead answered, ¡°Isn¡¯t that where magic comes from? Selling one¡¯s soul?¡± Ward inhaled and opened his mouth to reply, but another woman across from him spoke first, ¡°That¡¯s nonsense. There was a man with the touch in my hometown, and he did nothing but heal folks. Healer Edwin was a saint, and if anyone tried to tell me he sold his soul, I¡¯d curse ¡®em and label ¡®em a fool!¡± ¡°Well said!¡± Raymond nodded emphatically, looking Ward¡¯s way as if to say, ¡°See, I¡¯m a good guy, not at all like my drunk wife.¡± Ward chuckled and shook his head, deciding to have a little fun with the people and give Grace a little poke in the process. ¡°Listen, folks, as far as I know, working normal magic with the words doesn¡¯t cost anyone their soul. I will tell you, though, that I¡¯ve seen firsthand how there are beings out there¡ªdevils and vampires and other fiendish things¡ªthat will consume the magical energy in a person¡¯s soul. Be wary about bargains offered to you that seem too good to be true.¡± More than one of the diners nearby made that strange, superstitious gesture Ward had seen, forming their forefinger and thumb into a circle and touching it to their brow. The little fellow near the end of the table leaned forward again and asked, ¡°So, you¡¯re on the Road then, stranger? You and your lady?¡± ¡°My name is Ward, sir, and Haley isn¡¯t my lady. We¡¯re partners on the Road, however. You got that part right.¡± ¡°Apologies, Ward. I know we all exchanged names earlier, but I have a bad memory for such things. I¡¯m Trant, in case anyone else has forgotten.¡± Ward nodded, took another bite, and then the conversation moved on to a more mundane topic. Overall, the dinner was mostly pleasant, and the food was some of the better fare Ward had eaten since leaving Fan¡¯s cooking at the Hen¡¯s Nest. They shared a toast with some overly sweet brandy to finish the meal, and then people began to leave. Rather than returning to their cabin, Ward and Haley decided to walk around the deck, taking some fresh air and watching the various moons and planets reflect on the darkly glimmering waves. Ward leaned on the railing, still clutching a half-full tumbler of brandy. Haley inhaled deeply, seeming to savor the salty air. Out of the blue, she announced, ¡°I feel strange.¡± Ward lowered his glass and arched an eyebrow. ¡°How so?¡± ¡°Like my life in Tarnish was a dream. It¡¯s distant and foggy, and¡­¡± She trailed off, struggling for words. ¡°I feel the same way about my life back on Earth. I think it¡¯s because of the intensity of everything we¡¯ve been through. Life and death situations, one after another, tend to make those distant, peaceful times seem¡­I dunno, quiet? Anyway, are dreams so bad? I almost like to think of that other life as a dream. I¡¯m not saying I wouldn¡¯t like to see my sister again, but I also hope she¡¯s still carrying on. You know, living her life pretty much the same way as before I left.¡± ¡°I suppose you¡¯re right. Our lives have been very hectic. Thinking of home, though, I wonder how Marshal Aldiss made out with my cousin. Do you suppose he¡¯s in jail? Dead? I wish there were a way to find out.¡± ¡°Shit, I never thought about that. I¡¯d love to hear how Fay and Fan are making out. Don¡¯t they have mail in this world?¡± ¡°Mail? That¡¯s not a bad idea, Ward! We could hire a courier to send a message. In fact, we could pay for a return message, too.¡± She closed her eyes, but her lips moved as though she was talking to herself. Before Ward could ask her if she was all right, she added, ¡°If we wait for the next auction and buy a berth on a future living ship, then we¡¯ll be in Westview for at least two months. That¡¯s plenty of time to get a message to and from Tarnish.¡± ¡°Let¡¯s do it. I can write to Fay, and you can write to¡ª¡± He stopped short, not sure who she should contact. ¡°The mayor!¡± ¡°Right.¡± Ward turned back to the ocean and took another slow, deep breath. ¡°Wonder where Grace¡ª¡± ¡°Hello, you two!¡± Lisa¡¯s voice came to them from a bit further down the deck. Ward looked her way and lifted his glass in greeting. ¡°Hey, Lisa. Enjoy the dinner?¡± ¡°I did, but not so much the conversation.¡± As she came closer, she smiled at Haley. ¡°I saw your practice earlier. Very impressive.¡± ¡°Um, thank you.¡± ¡°Listen, Ward and Haley, I¡¯ve a proposal you might be interested in.¡± ¡°Yeah?¡± Ward sipped his drink, nodding. ¡°Let¡¯s hear¡ª¡± Just then, a blood-curdling scream echoed eerily around the deck, seeming to reverberate with the constant rumble of the steam engines. Ward and the two women looked around, eyes wide, trying to find its source, but then a woman¡¯s voice cried out from near the captain¡¯s castle, ¡°Murder! My Raymond! He¡¯s dead!¡± 2.12 Murder 12 ¨C Murder Ward was looking directly at Lisa when the scream rang out, and she looked convincingly startled. He only had that thought because part of his mind was already suspicious of her, and he couldn¡¯t help wondering about the odd coincidence of her meandering over to them moments before the outburst. More shouts, including the captain barking orders, broke him from his mental analysis of Lisa¡¯s behavior, and he said, ¡°We should go see what happened.¡± ¡°I was about to suggest the same,¡± Lisa agreed, leading the way. Haley quickly followed but slowed for Ward, giving him a sideways glance. ¡°Is everything all right?¡± ¡°I guess so. I¡¯m just feeling¡­strange. It¡¯s almost like I expected something like this to happen.¡± ¡°Like a premonition?¡± ¡°Nah, more like a feeling. It could be nothing, or maybe someone we spoke to at dinner gave my subconscious a few clues. It¡¯ll come clear as we investigate.¡± ¡°Investigate?¡± Ward nodded to her. ¡°Yeah. It¡¯s what I do.¡± By then, they¡¯d come up against the back of a crowd¡ªpassengers and crew members in a tight circle around the captain and a sobbing Gertrude. She clung to the captain¡¯s stained uniform jacket, ugly crying as the man awkwardly patted her back. Using his height and bulk, Ward pushed his way through the crowd, making room for Lisa and Haley. When he got to the front line of onlookers, he saw why Gertrude was weeping: Raymond lay face down on the deck with a wide pool of blood spreading around him. ¡°That¡¯s a lot of blood,¡± he grunted, squatting to get a better look. One of the crew pointed up to the second-level railing on the captain¡¯s castle. ¡°He fell from there!¡± Again, Ward said, ¡°That¡¯s a lot of blood¡­for a fall.¡± He reached for the man¡¯s shoulder and, when no one objected, tugged it, turning the body on its side. Raymond¡¯s head lolled back, revealing a throat that had been cut to the spine. ¡°Jesus.¡± Gertrude fainted, and the captain caught her. ¡°Secure that body, James! Everyone clear out! Give my crew room to work!¡± A large, swarthy man wearing a very ripe, stained tunic brushed past Ward to scoop up the man¡¯s body while some other crew members began pushing forward, saying things like, ¡°A¡¯right, folks, back to yer cabins. Captain will get to the bottom of this.¡± ¡°Sir!¡± Lisa cried, her voice outraged. ¡°Did no one see the crime?¡± The captain, already turning to carry Gerty away, looked back and frowned at Lisa, whose eyes shone particularly brightly in the dim light of the nearby gas lamps. ¡°Nah, miss. When me and my crew arrived, ¡®twas just this old dame standing o¡¯er the body.¡± Ward stood from where he¡¯d been inspecting the enormous bloody pool. He approached the captain just as the man handed Gerty¡¯s insensate form off to a pair of crewmen. ¡°Captain, I think I can help you figure out what happened.¡± The captain regarded Ward, looming over him in his dark coat and hat. He shrank back a little and shrugged. ¡°Beggin¡¯ your pardon, sir, but how am I to know you didn¡¯t do the deed?¡± Ward shrugged. ¡°Because I was in plain view the entire time, walking the deck over there with Haley. Several of your crew saw us.¡± ¡°And I was with them!¡± Lisa interjected, stepping forward. ¡°I¡¯ll aid Ward in his investigation, Captain. I might know a spell or two that could help.¡± Again, the captain shrank back as he regarded Lisa. He sucked his teeth as he contemplated, then slowly began to nod as he looked at Ward. ¡°It¡¯s my job to get this boat to Westview, and I¡¯d be glad no¡¯ta have any more dying in¡¯tha process. If¡¯n ya can find the murderer, I¡¯ll refund yer passage fee.¡± Ward watched the two crewmen carrying Gertrude away and reached up to idly scratch his head under his hat band. ¡°I¡¯ll need to talk to Gertrude. Did she say anything to you?¡± ¡°Just babbling nonsense.¡± The captain shrugged, then turned to his nearby crew members, ¡°Clear everyone out and swab this damn mess!¡± Ward frowned at the widening pool of blood, then stepped back in surprise when he saw Lisa kneel to soak a clean, white linen handkerchief in the stuff. ¡°Someone give me a jar,¡± she said. ¡°What you want with that blood?¡± the captain asked. When Lisa glared up at him with her bright eyes, he snapped his fingers at one of his crew and said, ¡°You ¡®eard her, Lonny! Fetch a jar.¡± ¡°With a lid!¡± Lisa called after him. She looked at Ward and added, ¡°I might be able to divine something from the blood. There¡¯s a chance I can speak to Raymond¡¯s spirit.¡± The captain backed away, lifting his knuckles to his forehead. ¡°Now, wouldn¡¯t tha¡¯ be a pretty trick? I¡¯d rather not be present if it¡¯s all the same.¡± Ward nodded slowly, wondering if Lisa was playing on superstitions or if she really knew some words that could contact a person¡¯s spirit through their blood. He watched some crew members approach with mops and buckets, and the detective in him wanted to shout everyone away, rope off the scene, and wait for the crime processing folks, but he knew that wasn¡¯t going to happen¡ªnot on that ship and not on that world. Instead, he pointed to the railing on the captain¡¯s castle. ¡°I¡¯m going to have a look around up there.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll catch up.¡± Lisa held her bloody handkerchief up by way of explanation. Ward nodded and started around the metal wall of the castle, aiming for the stairs on the side. Haley was close behind him, and he turned to her. ¡°What do you think of Lisa?¡± ¡°I think it¡¯s a little strange that she claimed to be with us since dinner.¡± ¡°Yeah, my thoughts exactly.¡± He lowered his voice and added, ¡°Don¡¯t mention my spell, you know the one.¡± ¡°The secrets one?¡± ¡°Right. We¡¯ll use it on the body later, but I don¡¯t want Lisa tagging along.¡± Haley nodded. ¡°I understand.¡± Ward looked closely at the stairs as they ascended, scanning for anything out of place. He figured if someone had slit Raymond¡¯s throat, they would have had a bloody knife to deal with and that maybe he¡¯d see a droplet of blood or two. He didn¡¯t see anything, though, and soon they were on the second level. They walked around the front of the castle, and sure enough, Haley spotted smears of blood on the railing where Raymond had gone over. Ward studied the scene, squatting to look at the droplets on the ground. Haley started to move past him, but he stretched out an arm, blocking her. ¡°Look,¡± he said, pointing to a smeared droplet. ¡°Someone stepped in that.¡± The problem was that it was a mostly smooth, flat smear, and almost everyone¡¯s shoes on the entire planet were leather-soled with no tread. He stood and pointed to the top rail. ¡°Well, this is the scene of the murder, that¡¯s for sure. See those tiny dapples of blood¡ªlike they were sprayed out? That¡¯s from his lungs emptying through his slit throat. He probably tried to scream before his brain realized he was dead.¡± ¡°Horrible.¡± Haley tip-toed around the smeared blood stain on the deck and peered over the railing. ¡°They¡¯re still cleaning up, and Lisa just waved at me.¡± ¡°Why don¡¯t you follow the walkway around? Maybe the killer ditched the knife.¡± Ward was leaning closer to the smeared footprint, frowning. He was fairly sure he could see the stitch pattern along the edge, where the cobbler would have sewn the uppers to the sole. If he wasn¡¯t wrong, there was a tiny notch on the edge of the print. It could simply be the way the blood had splashed down before someone stepped in it, but it might be a lead. ¡°I wish I had a camera.¡± Haley was gone, so she didn¡¯t reply, and Grace was still hiding from Lisa, but he didn¡¯t mind talking to himself. Ward found it helped him think. He had a moment to wonder if cameras were even a thing in his new reality before another idea struck him. ¡°Haley!¡± he called. She didn¡¯t respond right away, and Ward didn¡¯t want to leave the scene to the mercies of the cleaning crew, so he called again, louder, ¡°Haley!¡±The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. Footsteps pounding heralded her return as she ran back. ¡°Is everything all right?¡± ¡°Yeah, sorry, can you run to our cabin and get me a sheet of paper? Just rip one out of the back of that notebook I bought.¡± She nodded. ¡°Be right back!¡± She ran past him toward the stairs, her boots ringing on the metal steps. While he waited, Ward cupped his hands around the smeared bloodstain, trying to keep the sea breeze from drying it too much. He listened to the commotion below as the crew worked, some of them making crass jokes and others¡ªquite reasonably¡ªfrightened by the grisly murder. He didn¡¯t have to wait long before Haley¡¯s pounding steps overshadowed the noise. He heard a startled yelp and Haley saying, ¡°Excuse me,¡± and then she was there holding out a sheet of cream-colored paper. ¡°Thanks.¡± Ward took the paper and delicately placed it atop the smear. He didn¡¯t know if he should press down on it, but when he didn¡¯t see the stain coming through the paper, he figured it was too dry to soak in on its own, so he very carefully patted the top with fluttering fingertips. He lifted the paper and smiled at his work; the print was there, complete with a notch and the stitching pattern on the killer¡¯s sole. He gently blew on it, ensuring it dried. Delicate footsteps approached, and then Lisa asked from behind him, ¡°What have you got there?¡± To Ward¡¯s surprise and delight, Haley supplied the excuse for him kneeling near the blood, holding a piece of paper. ¡°Ward used to work as an outlaw hunter. He likes to take notes about what he sees.¡± ¡°An outlaw hunter? Really? Did you work for the Assembly?¡± Ward delicately touched the print, ensuring the blood was dry, then folded the page. As he stood, he carefully tucked it into his inner coat pocket. ¡°No, Lisa. I investigated criminals in a different world. I¡¯m new to Vainglory.¡± ¡°Oh? That would explain your accent! How intriguing. You¡¯ll need to tell me more about your travels!¡± She looked past him to the mess on the deck and railing. ¡°Anything of note?¡± ¡°Only that I can confirm this was where Raymond was killed.¡± Lisa nodded, and Ward saw she clutched a small canning jar with the bloody handkerchief inside. ¡°That¡¯s helpful. At least we know he wasn¡¯t killed elsewhere and carried here to be thrown over.¡± ¡°Or that he wasn¡¯t attacked and then ran here,¡± Haley added. ¡°Ward says that fine, mist-pattern of blood is likely from him exhaling in surprise as he was cut.¡± Lisa¡¯s eyes widened slightly, and she touched her throat with her long, slender fingers. ¡°Awful.¡± ¡°Yeah, messy business.¡± Ward pointed to the jar she clutched. ¡°You can contact his spirit?¡± ¡°I can try, though we must hurry before his anima begins to disperse. That will mean his soul has crossed over.¡± ¡°How long does that take?¡± Haley asked. ¡°It depends. If a body is left in peace, it usually takes less than an hour. If the soul is stubborn, it could take as long as a day.¡± Ward frowned, thinking about all the ways people could die. ¡°And if the body isn¡¯t left in peace? If someone dies in a fire or something?¡± ¡°Then the transition is forced and immediate.¡± Lisa turned and started walking toward the stairs. ¡°Why don¡¯t you two join me in my cabin, and we¡¯ll try the spell?¡± Haley looked at Ward questioningly, and he shrugged. ¡°Let¡¯s go; I won¡¯t complain about seeing a new spell.¡± They followed Lisa down to the deck and then to the main passenger compartment. Lisa turned down a side passage before they reached the end of the central corridor where Ward and Haley¡¯s cabin was. After a short walk, they came to a door with a decidedly more upscale polished brass latch-wheel as opposed to the painted iron of most of the other doors. Upon entering, Ward realized why; she was in a suite¡ªa room with a large bed, a small table and chairs, and a door to an ensuite bathroom. ¡°I was fortunate to book my passage in time to claim one of the suites,¡± she said, watching Haley and Ward gawp at the finely appointed space. ¡°Please close the door; we wouldn¡¯t want to alarm the other passengers when I speak the words.¡± Haley pulled the door shut, and Ward took off his hat, hanging it on the rack next to the door before sitting at the little table. The whole while, he watched Lisa. She took off her embroidered, crimson bolero jacket, tossing it onto her bed. Then she walked around to where a green¡ªlacquered steamer trunk sat against the wall. Hiking her skirts, she knelt before it, shifting the contents around as she looked for something. Haley sat beside Ward and jerked her chin at Lisa. ¡°You should talk about trading spells.¡± Before Ward could respond, Lisa said, ¡°I was going to ask Ward about that on the voyage. I thought perhaps we ought to know each other a little better first.¡± ¡°I¡¯m sorry if I overstepped,¡± Haley replied, reaching up to fidget with the top button of her blouse. ¡°You and Ward are the only sorcerers I¡¯ve known. Well, and Nevkin.¡± Lisa stood, clutching a modestly-sized book with a flower-printed dust jacket. ¡°Nevkin? The name rings a bell.¡± ¡°He was in the catacombs with us.¡± ¡°Oh! The fellow with the tattooed head. I didn¡¯t know he had the touch.¡± Haley inhaled, ready to expound, but Ward caught her eye and almost imperceptibly shook his head. Haley nodded slightly. ¡°I think he might have.¡± Lisa opened her little jar and gingerly lifted out the blood-soaked handkerchief. ¡°A pity that I was so quick to volunteer my kerchief¡ªthis one was one of my favorites.¡± She set it on the black-painted wooden planks, then stepped back. ¡°Hmm, makes you wonder what else the paint on these old floorboards is hiding, doesn¡¯t it?¡± ¡°Not really,¡± Ward chuckled. ¡°I¡¯ve seen too many bad cleanups after messy crimes. Nobody ever cleans between the boards. I mean, you can¡¯t really, not perfectly, not without ruining the floor. Our crew would cut the boards out and find all kinds of evidence in the gunk they scraped up.¡± Lisa looked at him askance, tapping her chin in contemplation as she said, ¡°Intriguing.¡± She picked up her little book and held it up. ¡°Forgive me, but I¡¯ve not prepared this spell; it¡¯s not something I¡¯d use every day. It¡¯ll take me just a few minutes.¡± Ward nodded and watched as Lisa began to dance. He could tell she was moving into the forms for whatever words of power her spell required, but she seemed far more graceful than he ever felt, and it made him lean close to Haley and whisper, ¡°She looks a lot better doing that than I do, right?¡± ¡°Well, you¡¯re always sitting¡ª¡± ¡°Not for the, uh, the one I used on you.¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t see you prepare that one, did I?¡± To his relief, Haley smiled and winked at him. Then she added, ¡°But you¡¯re right; she¡¯s far more graceful than you.¡± ¡°Thanks.¡± Ward smirked and elbowed her. He watched Lisa move, wondering if the fact that her forms were all done from a standing position meant they were higher level, like the ones for the spell he¡¯d used to bring Haley back. Watching her, the more he thought about it, the more he realized the movements looked familiar. Ward was ninety percent sure that some of the forms were the same ones he¡¯d used in the other spell. All too soon, Lisa stopped moving and looked at Ward and Haley with gleaming eyes. ¡°Ready?¡± Haley clapped her hands over her ears and nodded. Ward said, ¡°Yeah.¡± Lisa nodded and focused on the bloody handkerchief. After inhaling deeply, she said, ¡°Spirvak Dhravek Prakhun Vrothun!¡± The words emerged from her mouth clear and sharp, and Ward knew he recognized at least three of them. Because of their fleeting nature, though, he knew he¡¯d have to look at his grimoire to be sure, and by then, he might have forgotten what he heard. The words seemed to bounce around the metal-walled cabin, and the gas lamps flickered and faded as dark shadows gathered. Ward felt his hackles rise as a chill ran down his spine. Glancing at Haley, he saw her eyes squeezed tight and her hands pressing against her ears while foggy puffs plumed out with her panting breaths. Lisa stood over the handkerchief, her eyes wide, streaming tears of blood as she stared at something in front of her. It took Ward a second to notice the foggy shadows coalescing in the air before her, spreading into the ethereal shape of a man. After a dozen seconds or so, the man¡¯s likeness solidified into a sallow, translucent version of the living, flesh-and-bone one Ward had met at dinner¡ªRaymond. His jowls trembled as he looked around, and focusing on Lisa, he wailed in a voice that echoed hollowly, ¡°Why?¡± Lisa braced one hand on the post of her luxurious bed, then leaned toward the spirit. ¡°Who killed you, Raymond? Who cut your throat?¡± Raymond looked around the room as though confused or lost, his eyes gliding over Ward and Haley as though they weren¡¯t there. He looked at Lisa again and cried, ¡°Why?¡± ¡°Who, Raymond? Who killed you?¡± Lisa was yelling now, her voice shrill with strain. Ward could see the spell had been a bit much for her; she looked like she¡¯d just been mugged. Raymond¡¯s spirit reached his wispy fingers toward his misty, flabby neck, probing oddly at it. ¡°I¡ª¡± he looked over his shoulder, and his eyes widened with fear. ¡°Who?¡± Lisa yelled. ¡°I don¡¯t know!¡± the spirit wailed, and then, like someone threw a switch, the shadows and mist dispersed, and he came apart like a stiff breeze had blown him away. The lights flickered back to life, and Haley exhaled loudly. ¡°Gods!¡± Lisa sighed and collapsed on the foot of her bed, flopping back. ¡°Oof! That spell hurts!¡± Ward stood and stepped closer to her, looking at the bloody kerchief as he stepped over it. The blood was nearly brown, utterly devoid of moisture. ¡°You gonna be okay?¡± Lisa smiled and held out a hand. When Ward pulled her into a sitting position, he noticed her fingers were ice cold¡ªeven colder than Haley¡¯s when she skipped her Gopah. She smiled at him. ¡°I will. A good night¡¯s sleep will put me right, though I might have red eyes for a few days. I¡¯m sorry the spell didn¡¯t reveal anything; his spirit was traumatized.¡± ¡°Not too hard to imagine.¡± Ward shrugged. ¡°He didn¡¯t strike me as a man of violence, and that was a very violent death.¡± He glanced at Haley, then back to Lisa. ¡°Let¡¯s all get some rest, hmm? We can interview Gertrude in the morning and maybe have a look at the body.¡± ¡°Yes.¡± Lisa nodded, peering past Ward to make eye contact with Haley. ¡°Thank you both for including me. Shall we meet in the galley for breakfast?¡± ¡°Sounds good.¡± Ward looked at her for another second, then nodded, turning to the door. He took his hat from the hook. ¡°Sleep well.¡± ¡°Yes, goodnight,¡± Haley called as she followed Ward out the door. Lisa called after them before he closed it tight, ¡°Good night!¡± Ward pulled the door shut and twisted the wheel to latch it solidly. He looked at Haley with a grin and whispered, ¡°C¡¯mon.¡± ¡°Where?¡± she whispered back. ¡°Well, first, we¡¯ll stop by the room so I can get my spellbook, and then we¡¯re going to check out Raymond¡¯s body.¡± Haley punched him in the arm and hissed, ¡°Secrets!¡± Ward winked at her, ¡°That¡¯s right.¡± 2.13 Secrets in the Blood 13 ¨C Secrets in the Blood ¡°Sorry, mate, but Captain Lemon don¡¯t want folks nosing around the body. Not ¡®til he has a chance to speak to the missus about sending it into the sea.¡± The crewman standing before the door was burly and, despite the chilly sea air, had a sheen of oily sweat on his face. His shirt looked like it had given up trying to hold itself together a few voyages ago, but somehow, it still contained about half of the fellow¡¯s thick, fur-like chest hair. Ward gestured to the closed door behind the sailor. ¡°I¡¯ll just need a few minutes with the body, and I already have the captain¡¯s approval.¡± Haley nodded, stepping up beside Ward. ¡°He¡¯s telling the truth! Weren¡¯t you on the deck when the captain offered to pay us to find the killer?¡± The crewman, sitting atop a large, iron-strapped barrel, shrugged. ¡°I don¡¯t know about all that, but the captain told me clear as day, ¡®Greg, don¡¯t let no one mess with that body.¡¯ Seems pretty straight to me.¡± Grace, who¡¯d rejoined the duo after they left Lisa¡¯s cabin, spoke up from behind Ward and Haley, ¡°Just threaten him, Ward! He¡¯s not going to stand up to a sorcerer.¡± Ward sighed, then leaned forward, looking into the man¡¯s eyes. The fellow fidgeted, looking down at first, but when Ward kept staring, he reluctantly made eye contact. ¡°Just open the door.¡± ¡°Aye, sir, but the captain¡¯s gonna ¡®ear about this.¡± Haley brushed past him, twisting the handle on the storage room door. ¡°Good! He should hear about the work we¡¯re putting in while everyone else sleeps.¡± The metal hinges squealed as she pushed the door wide, and Ward followed her. As he pushed the door closed, he looked at the sailor and growled, ¡°You should keep people out; there will be some harsh magic in the air for a while.¡± Ward closed the metal hatch with a decisive thunk as the fellow''s eyes widened. ¡°That¡¯ll keep prying eyes away, I¡¯d think.¡± Grace chuckled, slapping him on the shoulder. Haley approached the canvas-wrapped body, which lay atop a long wooden crate. ¡°Oof! Such a smell already?¡± Ward nodded, moving closer. ¡°It¡¯s the blood. That canvas is soaked with it. I hate to do this, but I think we better unwrap him; I don¡¯t want the spell to think the target is that old sheet of canvas.¡± The storage space was cramped, and Ward spared a thought to congratulate himself for preparing the spell before leaving their cabin¡ªhe¡¯d hate to try to perform his meditative ¡°dance¡± in the tiny space. Haley began to tug at the stained canvas, but Ward gently pushed her aside. ¡°I got it.¡± ¡°I can¡ª¡± ¡°Let him do it, Haley,¡± Grace interrupted, ¡°He¡¯s used to this sort of thing.¡± ¡°Well,¡± Haley wrinkled her nose, ¡°if you insist.¡± She moved to the side, standing atop another wooden crate to make more room for Ward. Ward smiled, then, breathing shallowly through his mouth, unraveled the sailcloth. It was damp in some areas and stiff and dry in others, and as it unwound, revealing Raymond¡¯s body, the air in the little storage compartment grew thick with the tang of copper. When he had the cloth mostly off the body, and Ward could see Raymond¡¯s face and the mess of his throat, he took a step back and regarded the fellow¡¯s white, bloodless flesh. Haley took her hand away from her mouth and nose. ¡°He couldn¡¯t have been more than fifty, but that woman, Gerty, seems quite a lot older.¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± Ward grunted. ¡°Makes you wonder, doesn¡¯t it? Maybe she¡¯s the one with the money.¡± ¡°That¡¯s not very romantic, Ward. Maybe they met twenty years ago. Maybe he¡¯d been an aspiring artist, and Gerty took a fancy for him and began supporting his work¡ª¡± ¡°What? Are we having a story-telling contest?¡± Haley punched him on the shoulder. ¡°You¡¯re the one who started the whole story-telling thing.¡± Ward narrowed his eyes and looked at her. ¡°Hmm? Oh! The horses.¡± He waved a hand to forestall further interruptions while he looked inward at the words for his Reveal Secrets spell. They writhed with shadows, eager to be let free. ¡°Are you ready? Plug your ears.¡± Haley nodded, covering her ears and staring at the body. Ward cleared his throat and then let the words out, reveling in the ease of their passage over his new tongue, ¡°Shrovak Gnyrath!¡± They may have been smooth on his tongue, but in the confined space of the storage room, they rang like hammer blows on iron. Dust billowed off the rear stacks of boxes, then, as the words echoed hollowly, the single gas lamp dimmed, and thick shadows gathered up from the floor, seeming to seep from the gaps between barrels and crates. With the shadows came ghostly blue-tinted forms that slowly took shape in the darkness. Ward recognized Raymond right away, but rather than standing by the railing where he¡¯d been killed, the phantom sat at a desk, staring at a wispy, ethereal book. Grace nudged him. ¡°Hurry, Ward! Look at the ledger so I can remember what it says!¡± ¡°Ah, yeah.¡± Ward stepped forward, peering over the phantom¡¯s shoulder at the page. At first, he thought it was some sort of accounting document, but then he saw the left column held a list of feminine-sounding names: Lirael Syne, Ansha Corren, Melina Vars, Yara Dreth, Elspeth Grinley, and so on. When Ward saw the other columns¡ªorigin, glories, buyer¡ªhis stomach sank. It was an accounting document, but a horrific one. ¡°He was selling women,¡± Grace said immediately. ¡°I mean¡­¡± Ward frowned, looking at the column of buyers. They were all code names or nicknames; he couldn¡¯t be sure. They were names like ¡°Bronze Tree,¡± ¡°Iron Sun,¡± and ¡°Serpent¡¯s Eye.¡± ¡°It surely looks like it to me,¡± Haley said, and Ward realized she¡¯d moved around to the other side of the phantom version of Raymond. ¡°All we know is he has a ledger with women¡¯s names¡­¡± Ward trailed off as the phantom began to scrawl a new line at the bottom of the ledger page: Josina Fenn ¨C Applegrass ¨C 680 ¨C Silver Hawk. As if from the bottom of a well, the phantom¡¯s voice chuckled and muttered, ¡°A pretty penny for slothful apple-picking wench.¡± ¡°The bastard!¡± Grace hissed and tried to slap the phantom¡¯s face, but her hand simply passed through it, scattering blue-tinged mist. As if her outburst had been the catalyst for their dispersal, the ghostly forms began to melt away, first Raymond, then his desk and ledger. A moment later, the room was bright again, and the shadows were back where they belonged in the crevices between the storage room¡¯s contents. ¡°Well,¡± Ward sighed, ¡°we¡¯re no closer to the murderer.¡± ¡°Who cares?¡± Grace cried. ¡°Let him rot and good riddance! Whoever killed him deserves a reward!¡± ¡°I agree with Grace.¡± Haley put a hand on Ward¡¯s shoulder. ¡°I believe this man¡¯s dark, vile past caught up with him.¡± ¡°Yeah, maybe.¡± Ward approached the corpse and, rather than wrap it up in the sail cloth, he began to pat down Raymond¡¯s blood-drenched suit. ¡°I agree; it looks like he was a bad guy, but that doesn¡¯t mean the murderer was a sweetheart. Maybe it was a business partner who was just as dirty. Maybe it was a rival in the, uh, kidnapping business. I¡¯d still like to figure out who it was.¡± He wasn¡¯t surprised to find the man¡¯s pockets empty and only pale marks where there might once have been rings on his fingers. As he was inspecting the corpse¡¯s fingernails, though, he caught sight of the edge of a tattoo on Raymond¡¯s left wrist, just under the cuff of his shirt sleeve. Holding up the hand, he nodded to Haley. ¡°Roll his sleeve up a bit.¡± ¡°Oh!¡± Haley leaned close, spying the hint of colorful ink. A few seconds later, they were both staring at the weird design. The tattoo was in the shape of a jagged circle of thorns with a stylized green serpent in the center, its body coiled into a figure eight. The serpent¡¯s head was turned outward, its forked tongue flicking toward a small, white flower blooming at the edge of the circle of thorns. ¡°Dammit,¡± Ward growled. ¡°I really need a camera.¡± ¡°A what?¡± Haley looked at him quizzically. ¡°A, uh, thing that makes a picture of whatever you point it at.¡± ¡°A vaporgraph! There¡¯s a man in Tarnish with one!¡±This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. Ward chuckled. ¡°Not really going to help me here, is it?¡± ¡°Well,¡± Haley frowned, ¡°I bet I could sketch that if you want.¡± ¡°Really?¡± Haley nodded eagerly. ¡°Yes! I made a book of birds and squirrels when I was younger, and when my father showed it to the mayor, he offered me fifty glories for it!¡± ¡°Well, you¡¯ll do better than I could. I¡¯m a stick-figure kind of artist.¡± Ward took a sheet of paper from his pocket¡ªhe¡¯d taken a few when they¡¯d stopped by their cabin¡ªand passed it and a fancy, hand-made pencil to Haley. Five minutes later, she¡¯d sketched a nearly perfect replica of the tattoo. Ward folded it and put it into his pocket beside his bloody impression of the killer¡¯s footprint, then commenced wrapping the cold, stiffening body in the sailcloth. When he finished and turned toward the door, he looked between Grace and Haley, shrugging. ¡°That wasn¡¯t exactly a bust, but I sure wish I could get that spell to show me exactly what I¡¯m looking for.¡± Grace shook her head. ¡°I don¡¯t know, Ward. If you saw who killed Raymond, you would have condemned the person immediately. Now that you know what a vile bastard he was, you¡¯ll approach the killer differently.¡± ¡°Well, either way, I¡¯m going to figure it out.¡± Ward looked inward to where the words floated in his mind, and sure enough, he still had the Reveal Secrets spell, though it was faint, and he doubted he¡¯d get more than one more cast out of it. ¡°I¡¯ve got another idea.¡± ¡°Oh?¡± Grace looked at him with an arched eyebrow, but something distracted Ward, preventing him from expounding on his plan. The brass lever holding the storage room hatch closed seemed to be glittering with soft blue light. At first, Ward wondered if his spell was still running its course¡ªmaybe another ghostly secret was still playing out, like when he¡¯d cast the spell in his hotel room back in Tarnish. When he peered at the brass, though, putting his body before it, the light faded. Ward whirled and looked at the body, smiling broadly. ¡°Mana!¡± Haley and Grace watched him as he approached Raymond¡¯s corpse again, this time extending his right hand into the air above it, his fingers splayed. ¡°I haven¡¯t gathered mana since¡­¡± He looked at Haley. ¡°Since Nevkin.¡± Haley moved closer, peering at the body as though she could somehow will the mana to reveal itself to her. ¡°Is it difficult?¡± ¡°Nah,¡± Ward smiled at her. ¡°It was hard the first time, but only because I hadn¡¯t yet learned how to still my mind and ground myself. I¡¯m a lot better at it now.¡± She scrunched up one eye and asked, ¡°How can you ground yourself on a ship?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t think it works that way,¡± Grace replied. ¡°I think ¡®grounding¡¯ is a little more broadly applied to what Ward is doing. He¡¯s feeling his place in the universe along with everything else around him. When he opens himself that way, the mana will flow into his pathways.¡± Ward looked at her sideways. ¡°You¡¯re suddenly so knowledgeable, huh?¡± ¡°Oh, hush! You know I helped you the first time!¡± ¡°Yeah. It¡¯s true.¡± Ward looked back to the body, then as his hand bathed in the swarm of mana motes, he closed his eyes and slowly exhaled. Almost immediately, he felt his heartbeat and focused on that, slowly expanding his perception outward. He listened to the creak of the ship¡¯s hull as it barreled through the waves and the distant thump-thump-thump of the mighty steam engine vibrating through the metal. Closer at hand, he focused on Haley¡¯s soft, steady breaths. As his mind grew still and melted into the world around him, he felt the first of the motes tickle his palm like a gentle zap of static electricity. After that, a dozen more shivered into his flesh, and then as cool, tingling streamers ran from his palm, up his arm, and into his chest, he felt a rush as dozens, then hundreds of motes began to flow into him. Ward caught his breath, practically vibrating from the sensation. The mana rushed through him like rivulets of icy, electrically charged water, amplifying his senses to the point of overload. Dopamine exploded in his mind, sending tingles up and down his spine, and Ward nearly lost consciousness, falling forward and barely catching himself on the edge of the crate where Raymond¡¯s body lay. He felt Haley¡¯s hand on his shoulder and heard her voice, small and distant, ¡°Are you okay, Ward?¡± Grace moaned softly and answered for him, ¡°He¡¯s fine, just overwhelmed. His vessel was ready to pull in a lot of mana¡ªmore than usual.¡± Ward shook his head and pulled himself to his feet. ¡°Damn! That was intense. I, uh, want to see what the hemograph is going to say after that!¡± He turned to the door and took a step, nearly collapsing again as his rubbery knees didn¡¯t behave the way he¡¯d expected. Haley was there in a flash, propping him up as she put his arm over her shoulders. ¡°Maybe the second half of my investigation can wait until morning,¡± he grunted. ¡°Let¡¯s get back to our cabin.¡± ¡°Agreed. I¡¯m tired, and we¡¯ve been breathing this rank air long enough.¡± Haley pulled the door open, and the two of them staggered out, past the guard who leaned back into the corner and seemed to hold his breath as though whatever was bothering Ward might be contagious. Ward glared at him. ¡°Don¡¯t let anyone throw that corpse into the sea until the captain speaks to me.¡± When the guard didn¡¯t respond, Ward stood up straight, taking his own weight as he turned to stare. ¡°Understand?¡± ¡°Yes, sir.¡± The man nodded rapidly, his fleshy throat, covered in patchy stubble, bouncing up and down with the motion. Ward nodded, then leaned on Haley again as they made their way back to their cabin. By the time they¡¯d covered half the distance, Ward was feeling fine. The weird jelly-like sensation in his limbs seemed to work itself out, but he kept his arm on Haley¡¯s shoulders for a while, enjoying the camaraderie. Once they were in their room, with the door secured behind them, he plopped down on his bunk and began rummaging through his pack. Haley sat on her bunk, facing him. ¡°What¡¯s the other half of your investigation going to be, Ward?¡± ¡°Well, there are a couple of parts. For starters, we need to interview that old lady¡ªGerty. Then I want to cast my spell again on the spot where Raymond went over the railing. Hopefully, there aren¡¯t so many secrets about that little walkway, and it¡¯ll show us Raymond getting bumped off.¡± Ward frowned, thinking, as he pulled the hemograph out of his pack. Grace had sat down beside Haley, and she stretched out her leg, nudging his knee. ¡°You say that like you have some doubts.¡± ¡°Nah, not doubts. I, uh, just want to do it when no one¡¯s around. It wouldn¡¯t be great if the killer saw us uncover his or her identity.¡± Haley tucked a strand of loose hair behind her ear. ¡°The best time would be just before dawn, don¡¯t you think?¡± ¡°Yeah, probably. I¡¯ll probably wake up. If I do, I¡¯ll slip out and cast¡ª¡± ¡°Not without me!¡± This time, it was Haley¡¯s turn to nudge his knee with her boot. ¡°Someone needs to watch your back while you¡¯re doing your magic.¡± Ward chuckled. ¡°Fair enough. I¡¯ll wake you up.¡± Shaking his head, he laughed softly. ¡°I mean, if I wake up in time. I think I will, but it¡¯s a little iffy considering I¡¯m not exactly following my normal sleep routine.¡± He had the hemograph on his lap by then, and he flipped it open and gingerly pressed his finger against the spring-loaded brass disc. As it sank, he braced himself for the sting. Even so, he still flinched when the needle jabbed into his flesh. As the hemograph began to click and the aetherflux glowed and shifted under the glass, Haley and Grace leaned forward to watch. It seemed to take a little longer than usual, but after a minute or so, the glowing aetherflux took on the shapes of letters and numerals: Previous reading detected ¨C Earlier values displayed in Brackets Bloodline: Awakened Human ¨C Aetherborn Traces, Lycan Traces, [Unknown] Traces Accumulated Mana: 1212 [0] Mana Distribution: Natural ¨C No Allocation Enchantments Detected Mana Well: Tier 3 ¨C 36% [35%] to Next Tier, Enhanced Regeneration Minor Mana Sensitivity: Tier 4 ¨C Bloodline Dependent Mana Pathways: Tier 5 [Tier 2] ¨C Bloodline Dependent, [Unknown] Artifact Influence Detected Vessel Capacity: Tier 2 ¨C Bloodline Dependent Vessel Durability: Tier 2 ¨C 60% [59%] to Next Tier, Enhanced Healing ¨C Minor, Enhanced Bone Density - Minor Vessel Strength: Tier 2 ¨C 46% [45%] to Next Tier Vessel Speed: Tier 2 ¨C 50% [49%] to Next Tier Longevity Remaining: 62% [55%] ¨C Tier-Two Depletion Rate (Approximate) Anima Heart: Tier 1 ¨C Closed, Pathways Detected Anima: Nil ¡°You got most of your longevity back!¡± Grace jabbed her finger on the rating in question, and Ward pushed it aside so he could see what she was pointing at. When he saw his longevity was just a few percent shy of his pre-Nevkin numbers, he smiled, nodding. ¡°Yeah, I honestly feel pretty damn good, but I¡¯m tired.¡± Haley pointed to his ¡°vessel¡± attributes. ¡°Why are your new values so close to the previous ones?¡± Ward indicated his accumulated mana. ¡°I had zero extra mana in my system after¡­Nevkin. Now, though, I have over twelve hundred¡ªall that mana I got from Raymond. That¡¯ll start feeding into my other attributes. Looks like I got a percentage toward the next tier just walking over here.¡± Grace nodded. ¡°We need to find a way to improve your vessel capacity, Ward. You¡¯ll be stuck at tier two for most of those attributes until then.¡± She looked at Haley, narrowing her eyes in contemplation. Ward knew what she was thinking. He cleared his throat and lifted the hemograph. ¡°Do you wanna see what it says for you, Haley?¡± ¡°I¡­I¡¯ve never used one.¡± She looked down, studying her pale hand, and Ward knew what she was thinking. What if it showed her something she didn¡¯t want to know? What if it said something terrible? ¡°You don¡¯t have¡ª¡± ¡°I¡¯ll do it!¡± Haley held up her pointer finger. "Do I just push it against that brass circle?¡± Grace nodded. ¡°That¡¯s right, Haley. Just push it in there so it can get a drop of your blood. It doesn¡¯t hardly hurt.¡± Haley looked at Ward, and he nodded. ¡°It always startles me, but it doesn¡¯t hurt much.¡± Biting her lower lip in concentration, she slowly depressed the brass disc. Ward heard the needle click, and Haley jerked her finger out. Ward chuckled as she glared from him to Grace and back again. ¡°That hurt!¡± ¡°I wasn¡¯t lying, Haley!¡± Grace leaned toward her earnestly. ¡°Ward has a meatier finger! I bet the needle hit your bone. I¡¯m sorry!¡± Haley was rubbing her pointer finger vigorously, but she smiled at Grace, shaking her head. ¡°It¡¯s fine. I¡¯m sure you¡¯re right.¡± ¡°Are you two calling my fingers fat?¡± Ward cocked an eyebrow, but the two women ignored his attempt at humor. Both were intently staring at the hemograph as the aetherflux began to shift and warp, forming into neat rows of letters and numerals: First reading detected ¨C storing results in cognicrystal for future comparison. Bloodline: Awakened Human ¨C Infernal Traces, Celestial Echoes ¨C [Unknown] Corruption Detected Accumulated Mana: 312 Mana Distribution: Natural ¨C No Allocation Enchantments Detected Mana Well: Tier 1 ¨C 36% to Next Tier, Enhanced Fire Affinity - Minor Mana Sensitivity: Tier 2 ¨C Bloodline Dependent Mana Pathways: Tier 2 ¨C Bloodline Dependent, Enhanced Mana Collection - Minor Vessel Capacity: Tier 2 ¨C Bloodline Dependent Vessel Durability: Tier 2 ¨C 74% to Next Tier Vessel Strength: Tier 3 ¨C 55% to Next Tier, [Unknown] Feat or Mutation Detected Vessel Speed: Tier 2 ¨C 21% to Next Tier Longevity Remaining: 99% ¨C Tier-Four Depletion Rate (Approximate), [Unknown] Feat or Mutation Detected Anima Heart: Tier 1 ¨C Closed, Pathways Detected Anima: Nil Ward made a low whistle. ¡°That¡¯s¡­not what I expected.¡± 2.14 Midnight Confessions 14 ¨C Midnight Confessions ¡°How,¡± Grace asked, leaning close to the display on the hemograph, ¡°do you have so much mana and all these attributes beyond baseline?¡± ¡°I¡­don¡¯t know,¡± Haley muttered, her eyes locked on the chart. Ward didn¡¯t think it was so complicated. ¡°She must gather mana when she¡¯s doing Gopah. I mean, if you ask me, it¡¯s pretty clear that people doing Gopah are basically sorcerers, but they use more physical words of power. Haley¡¯s forms are a lot like the meditative poses I use to remember the words.¡± ¡°Right!¡± Grace snapped her fingers. ¡°So, when she gathers mana doing her forms, it¡¯s slowly applied to her vessel just like what happens to you when you deliberately gather mana, Ward!¡± ¡°Yeah, exactly.¡± Ward chuckled and pointed to Haley¡¯s ¡°Longevity Remaining¡± attribute. ¡°I don¡¯t know what¡¯s causing all this, though. Looks to me like you¡¯re going to have a long life, Haley.¡± Haley wasn¡¯t smiling. She pointed to the various ¡°unknown¡± notations on her report. ¡°I have something happening to me. A corruption. It¡¯s mutating me!¡± When tears sprang from Haley¡¯s eyes, Grace tried to comfort her but struggled with the fact that she couldn¡¯t touch her. Instead, she leaned close and whispered, ¡°Shh! Don¡¯t do that. Don¡¯t assume the worst. Those two ¡®mutations¡¯ are positive! You have a longer life than usual and are stronger than normal. As for the ¡®corruption,¡¯ you¡¯re working on that, right? Every time you do your Gopah, you¡¯re holding it back! And remember what Master Stone said¡ªif you master the eleventh form, nothing will be able to corrupt your soul!¡± Ward nodded, gently rubbing Haley¡¯s back. ¡°This is far better than I feared, Haley. I half expected it to say you were a vampire or something.¡± He was mostly joking, but when Haley looked up at him with horrified eyes, he regretted his loose lips. ¡°Truly? You feared I was a monster?¡± ¡°No!¡± Ward tried to smile reassuringly. ¡°It was just an irrational fear. You know, my guilty conscience. I was afraid I¡¯d done something horrible to you, but this,¡± Ward gestured to the hemograph, ¡°this isn¡¯t bad at all! Yeah, we knew you had something going on with you, and we knew you had to fight it with your art.¡± He put his finger on the ¡°unknown corruption¡± line and added, ¡°That¡¯s all this is. Nothing new, nothing terrifying. You¡¯ve got this, Haley.¡± Haley nodded, sniffing and wiping her eyes. ¡°Thank you, Ward.¡± She looked at Grace. ¡°Thank you, Grace. I wish I could hug you.¡± As Grace mumbled more comforting platitudes, Ward closed the hemograph and put it back into his pack. He stretched his neck, eliciting a few pops, then stood. ¡°I¡¯m going to the bathroom. Gonna hit the sack. I think tomorrow¡¯s going to be a busy one.¡± He fished around in his pocket for the keyring that held their two room keys, then took one off and handed it to Haley. ¡°If you do the same, be sure to lock up.¡± She sniffed again, smiling up at him. ¡°I will. Thank you, Ward. Thank you for helping me to keep positive. I don¡¯t know what I¡¯d do without you and Grace.¡± ¡°Yeah, well, you bring out the good in me, too.¡± With that, Ward slipped out and walked down to the head, intent on washing up before bed. The bathroom reminded Ward of a locker room at an old, dingy gym, with a row of sinks, a row of toilets, and a walk-in shower area devoid of any privacy. He lucked out, being the only occupant at that hour, and managed to get a quick shower in without having to share the space with anyone. Dressed in just his trousers and a thin undershirt, he tucked his folded clothes and towel under an arm and slipped out, only to be immediately accosted by Lisa. She wasn¡¯t dressed in her fancy dinner dress any longer but wore a pair of slender trousers with a simple long-sleeved black shirt tucked into the waist. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a bun, and she held a finger to her lips as she whispered, ¡°Ward, may I please speak to you in private?¡± Ward looked up and down the hallway, then shrugged. ¡°This seems private.¡± ¡°Please come to my room! I can¡¯t risk anyone overhearing what I have to say.¡± Ward sighed, something in his gut telling him it was a bad idea, but he nodded and gestured down the hall. ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡± Lisa offered him a tight-lipped smile, nodded, and turned, leading him down the hallway to her room. She held the door for him, and when Ward stepped in, he felt a strange tingle over his skin and whirled around in alarm, dropping his folded clothes and towel. Lisa stood behind him, with a small breach-loading pistol in her hand, watching him warily. ¡°The hell are you doing?¡± he growled, balling up his fists and stepping back. He glanced to his left and right, looking for something to fight with, and settled on a wooden chair tucked under a nearby table. He didn¡¯t go for it immediately but prepared himself in case she fired. Ward had seen plenty of how the guns in this world operated; with a narrow barrel like the one on her pistol, he didn¡¯t think she¡¯d be able to kill him in one shot, not unless she scored a very lucky hit. Lisa reached behind her with her free hand and pulled her door shut, whirling the locking wheel into place. Then, she pointed to the floor, and Ward saw a line of sparkling gray dust between them. When he traced it with his eyes, he realized it traversed the room from wall to wall. ¡°Please don¡¯t try any magic on me, Ward. Odds are it will backfire on you, thanks to the fae dust I put down.¡± ¡°I¡¯m going to ask you another time, Lisa: what the hell is going on? Get your answer right because I don¡¯t need magic to get out of this room, and I¡¯m not the kind of man who¡¯ll stand around and let someone threaten him with a gun.¡± ¡°Hear me out, Ward. I have much to confess, and, in so doing, I hope you¡¯ll trust me enough to explain a few things to me. I fear I¡¯ve begun to suspect you of very dark dealings, and I must confront you about them.¡± Ward couldn¡¯t help noting how her eyes glowed in the dim light of her room¡¯s single lamp. Had she put out the other lamps to keep him from noticing the powder on the floor? Would it really affect him? He¡¯d certainly felt something odd when he stepped over it. He hadn¡¯t been lying, though; if he wanted to fight past her, he wouldn¡¯t be relying on magic, anyway. He took a sideways step, putting him within reach of the wooden chair, then nodded. ¡°Go ahead. I¡¯m listening.¡± ¡°First, it¡¯s not a coincidence that we¡¯re both on this ship.¡± Ward arched his eyebrow in interest, then noted that Lisa¡¯s hand, the one holding her gun, was trembling slightly, and her finger was resting on the trigger. ¡°Will you please take your finger off that trigger? Just rest it beside it, all right? You¡¯ll still be able to shoot before I can jump you, but you¡¯ll be a lot less likely to do it by accident.¡± Lisa scowled and licked her lips, stepping sideways, her eyes constantly tracking Ward. ¡°Don¡¯t tell me how to handle my own pistol!¡± Despite her objection, she moved her finger off the trigger. ¡°So? I¡¯m listening.¡± Ward was beginning to like his odds more and more. The way she was shaking and the nature of the gun in her hand made him feel he had an excellent chance to steamroll her, knocking the gun aside and dropping her with a well-placed punch. Still, he had nothing against getting a little information, so he bided his time; the more he could lull her, the better he liked his odds. ¡°I¡¯ve been following you since Applegrass. I went there for Nevkin. You see, I work for an organization, one aligned with the Assembly, and we¡¯re at odds with another group, a very dangerous, vile group of men who ally themselves with dark entities and powers and do unspeakably evil things in the name of power. I was sent there with Nevkin as my target but with some secondary goals as well. When I arrived, though¡ª¡± ¡°You learned that I¡¯d already killed him?¡± Lisa nodded, licking her lips again. ¡°That¡¯s right. My first instinct was to find and thank you, but then I spoke to the villagers. I learned that your young assistant hid her face in a deep cowl, that she shunned the sunlight, and that she sent shivers down the spines of the men and women who dealt with her. I learned that you spent time sifting through the ruins of Nevkin¡¯s lair, and when I investigated, I found no trace of a vile artifact I was sent to retrieve.¡± She watched Ward while she spoke, likely looking for a reaction, but he just nodded. ¡°Go on.¡± ¡°So, I pursued you. I spoke to the people in Port Granite whom you spoke to, and I learned you were seeking passage to Westview. It was a small matter to arrange passage on the ship ahead of you; everyone in the tavern heard you talking about it.¡±Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator. Ward sighed and put his hand on the chair, acting like he was leaning on it, but he was really getting a grip and making sure he was ready to swing it at the woman if the conversation took the wrong sort of turn. ¡°Go on.¡± ¡°Well, when I spoke to you on the deck and watched your friend doing her Gopah, I began to doubt my fears. That is, until dinner, I saw you speaking to a man known to my organization, a vile fiend of a man who just happened to be a member of the same group as Nevkin. ¡®What are the odds?¡¯ I asked myself. Were you here to deliver the artifact to him? Were you both going to see the same master? Was he your agent in Port Granite? Were you his? I tried to feel him out, but when I learned nothing, I took my chance. I killed him.¡± ¡°So¡­¡± Ward looked from her gun to her face, then back again. ¡°What? You¡¯re going to murder me, too?¡± ¡°That wasn¡¯t murder! That was justice! Don¡¯t play the fool with me, Ward! You know what he was about. That¡¯s why you and Haley are trying to find his killer. It¡¯s why you want to avenge him!¡± Ward could see her nerves were fried. Her hand was shaking more and more, and he wondered if it would be a good time to try to talk her off the edge or if he should just knock her out and try later. In a move that almost surprised himself, he decided to try to use his words. ¡°Listen, Lisa, you¡¯re right about some things, but you¡¯re way the hell off on some others. Can I explain, or are you just going to kill me?¡± Again, he glanced pointedly at the gun. ¡°I¡¯ll listen to you, but don¡¯t try anything, Ward! I¡¯m warning you!¡± ¡°All right. First of all, Haley¡¯s one of the sweetest people I¡¯ve ever met, and there¡¯s no damn way she¡¯s serving some evil organization. Nevkin hurt her badly, and that¡¯s why the people in Applegrass noted something¡­off about her. Secondly, I have the artifact, and I don¡¯t know what the hell it is, but I sure wasn¡¯t planning to give it to anyone. And third, I didn¡¯t know anything about Raymond, our murder victim, until I started investigating him. I¡¯m inclined to believe you that he was a bad guy, though. Still, I¡¯m not sure I¡¯m a fan of your idea of justice. Don¡¯t they have courts and prisons in this world?¡± ¡°You¡¯ve a smooth tongue, Ward.¡± She lifted the gun, scowling. ¡°Some might even call it silver!¡± ¡°Ah, Jesus.¡± Ward sighed. ¡°You have the artifact, all right, but it¡¯s in your mouth!¡± ¡°This isn¡¯t the artifact that was making Nevkin nuts. It was a box, a sealed metal box, and I haven¡¯t opened it.¡± ¡°How can I believe you, Ward? How? You told me we¡¯d look at the body together tomorrow, and yet you went straight there after you thought I was sleeping!¡± ¡°Lisa, that¡¯s because I wasn¡¯t sure I could trust you. I thought maybe you had something to do with the guy¡¯s death! Guess what? I was right!¡± Lisa scowled, lifting her trembling hand, and Ward could see the gun was getting heavy for her. Anything was heavy if you held it aloft long enough. ¡°I told you! He was vile, he¡ª¡± ¡°Kidnapped women? Sold them? Yeah, I figured it out. Did he deserve to die? Probably. Did you have the right to execute him, though?¡± ¡°We¡¯re at war! We¡¯re fighting for people¡¯s souls! These people, the Circle, they¡¯re¡­¡± She stopped speaking as tears began to stream from her eyes. ¡°Ward, I don¡¯t want to kill you, but I can¡¯t face you and your apprentice together. I may not get another chance, and I know you¡¯ll kill me if I let¡ª¡± Ward had seen and heard enough. While she blinked to clear away her tears, he moved. He simply took a step to his left and hauled the wooden chair out from under the table, flinging it toward her gun hand. Startled, she tracked the chair instead of him, and that might have been her last mistake if Ward had intended to kill her as she feared. Instead, as the chair smashed into her hand, knocking the gun loose before she could even pull the trigger, he stepped to the side, grabbed her, and pulled her close. He wrapped an arm around her neck and clamped his hand over her mouth. Ward wasn¡¯t sure stopping someone from speaking could prevent them from casting spells, but he figured he¡¯d give it a try. Lisa struggled in his grasp, and she was surprisingly strong, but Ward had forty pounds on her, easy, and he was strong as hell, to boot, thanks to his mana accumulation over the last few weeks. He held her tight as she thrashed, and when it seemed she¡¯d finally worn herself out, he gave her a good shake and said, ¡°If I were going to kill you, you¡¯d be dead. Understand?¡± She couldn¡¯t speak but grunted, jerking her head. ¡°Listen. I¡¯m going to explain some things to you, and then we¡¯ll see if we can give trust a try. Can you hold still for a few minutes while I talk?¡± ¡°Mmph!¡± ¡°Right. Well, listen. I already told you about the artifact. I wasn¡¯t lying. I¡¯ll show it to you if that¡¯ll help you calm down. It wasn¡¯t the tongue. Do I seem insane to you?¡± She jerked her head from side to side. ¡°Good. Now, I happen to know a spell that can¡­reveal things. I cast it on Raymond¡¯s body, and, like I said, I saw what kind of a creep he was. I¡¯m going to let go of your mouth, but if you try to cast a spell, I¡¯m going to choke you out. Understand?¡± When she nodded, Ward slowly unpeeled his fingers from her mouth, and she gasped as though she¡¯d been struggling to breathe. ¡°I¡¯m s-sorry!¡± ¡°Just tell me about this ¡®Circle¡¯ you mentioned.¡± ¡°Th-they¡­¡± She took a deep, shuddering breath and started again, ¡°They pursue power at all costs. They sacrifice to dark entities. They murder and kidnap. I¡­I can¡¯t list all of their atrocities. I knew of Raymond LaCorte but didn¡¯t know he¡¯d be on this ship. I couldn¡¯t¡ªWard, I couldn¡¯t let him slip through my fingers. When I thought he was aligned with you, I seized the only chance I thought I might get to eliminate him. I was afraid you were already suspicious of me. You acted aloof when I pretended to have met you by surprise. I thought you knew I was lying.¡± ¡°I thought it was too much of a coincidence to meet you on this ship, and I thought you were too damn good with that sword to be a novice.¡± He tried to refocus the conversation, ¡°They¡¯re just called ¡®the Circle¡¯?¡± ¡°The Circle of Thorns.¡± ¡°Aha!¡± Ward pushed her away, releasing his grip on her shoulders. ¡°I can prove I¡¯m not with them.¡± She turned to look at him, and though she seemed to have admitted defeat, she looked determined. Ward resolved to keep alert in case she made a move for her gun or decided to try some magic. ¡°How can you prove¡ª" ¡°Look.¡± Ward pointed to his fallen clothes, chiefly his folded jacket. ¡°Get my coat and look in the inner pocket. There should be two pieces of paper.¡± He watched as she complied, pulling out the bloody footprint and the sketch of Raymond¡¯s tattoo. When her eyes widened upon seeing Haley¡¯s drawing, Ward smiled. ¡°Why would I need to sketch Raymond¡¯s tattoo if I knew what it was? If I were a member of the same organization, wouldn¡¯t I recognize their mark?¡± Lisa¡¯s head slowly began to bob as she agreed. She backed up a few more paces and collapsed on the foot of her bed, her shoulders slumping in defeat. ¡°I¡¯m a fool.¡± ¡°No, you¡¯re not. You¡¯re alone on a ship with people you thought were your enemies. You acted desperately because you thought things were desperate. Jesus, though, you¡¯ve got some balls. Why¡¯d you summon Raymond¡¯s spirit if you thought we were in league with him?¡± Lisa shrugged. ¡°Because I knew he never saw me coming when I cut his throat. I also know, from experience, that the newly dead rarely have anything coherent to say.¡± ¡°And you figured you¡¯d look like less of a suspect if you were helping?¡± She nodded, still looking down. ¡°And that.¡± Ward stepped over to her and held out his hand. She looked at it, then handed him the two pieces of paper clutched in the fingers of a bruised, swollen hand. The chair had done a number on her. Ward took the pages, unfolded the bloody footprint, and squatted before her. ¡°Let me see the bottom of your shoe.¡± ¡°Why?¡± Despite the question, she lifted her foot, and Ward held the print up next to the sole. Sure enough, the distance between the edge of the sole and the stitching was a perfect match, as were the size of the stitches. It wouldn¡¯t hold up in court back on Earth, but it was enough for Ward to feel like he¡¯d been on to something. ¡°Just curious if I¡¯m as clever as I think.¡± ¡°And?¡± ¡°I am.¡± He chuckled and folded the paper back up. ¡°How can you be so glib? What will you do, Ward? Am I doomed?¡± ¡°Nah, I think you¡¯re probably one of the good guys. I¡¯ll run it by Haley, but I think we can look the other way on Raymond¡¯s murder. Even without the stuff you told me, he was a rotten guy. What about his wife?¡± ¡°She surely knows he¡¯s up to no good, but I doubt she knows what. The Circle is an exclusive group, and spouses aren¡¯t generally invited.¡± ¡°All right. Well, I guess we¡¯ll just have to pretend we can¡¯t figure out who did the killing. Tell me the truth now, how long have you been studying swordwork?¡± ¡°Close to twenty years. My father was a duelist.¡± She sniffed and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, wincing as she touched a tender spot. ¡°Sorry I hit you with that chair, but I didn¡¯t want you to do something dumb¡ªyou know, like kill me.¡± ¡°Thank you, Ward. Thank you for believing I¡ª¡± ¡°Easy now. I believe some of this stuff, but I think we¡¯ve both got a long way to go before there¡¯s some real trust between us. We can start in the morning, though. Since you¡¯re actually pretty damn good with that sword of yours, how about we start with some real lessons?¡± ¡°I¡¯d like that.¡± She looked up with moist eyes. ¡°And the artifact?¡± ¡°I told you I¡¯d show it to you, didn¡¯t I? We¡¯re at sea for a week or more, so there¡¯s plenty of time for all that.¡± As she nodded again, Ward walked over and picked up the chair he¡¯d thrown. In the process, he stepped over the line of ¡°fae dust¡± and felt the tingling sensation again. ¡°This stuff really stops magic?¡± He bent to touch it with the tip of his finger. It felt like touching a nine-volt battery with his tongue, and he yanked his finger back. ¡°It interferes with magic that crosses over it. I¡¯d hoped it would protect me from any curses or direct magical attacks you might have tried. It¡¯s not an exact science.¡± ¡°Interesting. I dunno, Lisa; I think we have a lot we can talk about now that we¡¯re not trying to figure out if we¡¯re going to kill each other.¡± Ward picked up her pistol, hefting it in his hand. It was light, but the grip was comfortable. ¡°Nice little pistol. Just one shot?¡± Lisa nodded, still visibly upset by their encounter. Ward set the gun on the table and then moved over to her, squatting again so he could look her in the eyes. ¡°Listen, you messed up, but you had good reasons for your suspicions. I know you still feel like there¡¯s something off, that you lost the upper hand, but that always happens when you figure out your working theory was a bust and you put all your cards on the table only to find out you¡¯d called the wrong bluff. Get a good night¡¯s sleep, and we¡¯ll talk some more in the morning, right? We¡¯ll meet up on quarter deck after breakfast.¡± She took a deep, shuddering breath, then nodded. ¡°Yes, all right.¡± ¡°Right. Well, I better get to my cabin. I bet Haley¡¯s about ready to turn the ship upside down, looking for me.¡± He stood and opened her door. As he stepped out, he looked back at her, still slumped at the foot of her bed. ¡°Good night, Lisa.¡± ¡°Good night, Ward.¡± 2.15 Answers 15 ¨C Answers As soon as Ward left Lisa¡¯s room, Grace was there, hissing, ¡°I almost tried to surprise her like I did with the guy in the alchemist¡¯s shop! I could tell you were getting ready to do something, though, and she was talking, so¡ª¡± ¡°It¡¯s okay, Grace. I knew you were watching.¡± Ward hurried toward the cabin he shared with Haley. ¡°Like you said, she was talking. I don¡¯t think she wanted to shoot me.¡± ¡°She certainly seemed distraught, considering she¡¯s supposedly some kind of agent against an evil cult or whatever. Did you see how her hand was shaking?¡± ¡°I think she¡¯s at her wit¡¯s end. She might be tough and smart, and maybe she¡¯s working for some secret organization to fight evil, but I don¡¯t think she was ready for what it would be like to slit a guy¡¯s throat. I don¡¯t think she was ready to confront me face-to-face like that. I could see the wheels turning in her head as she pointed that gun at me, imagining what it would be like to kill someone she wasn¡¯t sure was bad.¡± ¡°You saw all that, hmm?¡± Grace chuckled, shaking her head. ¡°What?¡± ¡°Cops. You¡¯re all so sure about what other people are thinking.¡± Ward sighed. ¡°Don¡¯t lump every cop together, please, Grace.¡± He¡¯d reached their cabin, and when he opened the door, he was surprised to find the light turned low and Haley sound asleep in her bunk. Ward looked at Grace and raised an eyebrow as he whispered, ¡°Good thing I didn¡¯t need a rescue.¡± ¡°She¡¯s had a hard day, Ward.¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± Ward slipped into the room and quietly locked the door, then he crawled into bed, wincing with each creak and squeak of the springs. Haley didn¡¯t stir, though, and after he whispered good night to Grace, Ward turned the lamp all the way down and closed his eyes, succumbing to his own exhaustion. As usually happened, Ward¡¯s eyes snapped open in the wee hours of the morning, and even though he no longer intended to cast his spell near the bloody railing outside, he decided he¡¯d get up to go to the bathroom. He¡¯d barely sat up on the side of his narrow little bed when Haley mumbled, ¡°Is it time?¡± ¡°Nah, go back to sleep. I talked to Lisa last night; we don¡¯t need to investigate anymore.¡± Of course, his words had the opposite of his desired effect; Haley sat up and, rubbing her eyes sleepily, asked, ¡°What? Why?¡± ¡°I suppose you won¡¯t be able to sleep until I explain, huh?¡± Haley squinted at the porthole, and Ward could tell she was trying to see how light the sky was. ¡°I want to get up at dawn, anyway¡ªGopah.¡± ¡°I think we¡¯ve got a couple of hours until the sun¡¯s up. Anyway, about Lisa¡­¡± Ward took ten minutes to recount his encounter to Haley, and she took the news in stride, though her first question surprised him. ¡°What does Grace think?¡± ¡°She¡­didn¡¯t call me an idiot or anything. She didn¡¯t say exactly if she thought I was right to look the other way, though.¡± ¡°I think you¡¯re right. I think Raymond was a bad man, Ward. I¡¯d still like to talk to Lisa some more, in any case. I¡¯m not sure I trust her. What¡¯s her ¡®organization¡¯ called?¡± Ward sighed, shaking his head. ¡°I didn¡¯t ask. Before you ask, no, I didn¡¯t overlook it. I think part of me wanted to keep some distance between us until I could think about things objectively and talk to you and Grace. Part of me wanted to get out of that room ASAP. I figured we¡¯re on this boat for a week or more; there¡¯ll be time to ask her about that stuff.¡± ¡°All right.¡± She nodded, yawning, then flopped down on her pillow. ¡°Don¡¯t let me sleep too long. I¡¯m feeling less than enthusiastic about¡­everything, and I want to work on my forms¡­before¡­I want to work on¡­¡± Her words faded to a mumble as sleep claimed her again. Ward couldn¡¯t help watching her face for several seconds before getting up to use the bathroom. She looked so peaceful¡ªwhen awake, she carried her stress in her eyes, but as she slept, they were relaxed, her dark brows arched and unfurrowed. He tried to remember if that¡¯s how she¡¯d looked when he¡¯d first seen her and her brother go into the catacombs, but he wasn¡¯t sure. Maybe she¡¯d been stressed then, too. A few hours later, after failing to wake up again before the sun rose, Ward and Haley went to the galley for breakfast. They were served cafeteria-style, where everyone was given a pair of little pork sausages, half an orange, and a butter-slathered biscuit. Ward saw Lisa sitting with some other guests, and when they made eye contact briefly, she offered him a small smile and a nod. It seemed their truce and plan to talk after breakfast was still on. Haley wasn¡¯t talkative, and Ward knew it had to do with her not having done Gopah recently. Her ¡°corruption¡± was gaining ground, and she needed to drive it off again. That being said, their breakfast went quickly, and they were getting ready to head out to the quarter deck when Captain Lemon approached their table. ¡°Good mornin¡¯, folks. I understand you insisted on seeing the body of our murder victim last night, yeah?¡± Ward shifted in his seat to look more easily at the captain. ¡°That¡¯s right. I was hoping to find some hint as to who might have slain your passenger.¡± ¡°And?¡± ¡°And I wish I had better news, but I¡¯m feeling stymied. Has the widow been any help? Does she have any idea why anyone would want her husband dead?¡± The captain shook his head. ¡°Afraid she¡¯s gone a bit hysterical with despair. Raymond was her second husband, and if I understand her correctly, he¡¯s taken care of her since her first husband died o¡¯ consumption. She¡¯s been carrying on about how she¡¯s likely to be taken advantage of by every stray man that wanders by. Like many wives, I¡¯m afraid she¡¯s unfamiliar with the workings of the world. She even asked me how she¡¯s supposed to get from port to their home.¡± ¡°Like many wives, hmm?¡± Haley interjected, and Ward couldn¡¯t see an ounce of levity in her eyes. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, young lady,¡± the captain sighed, turning to look at her more directly, ¡°but she¡¯s from a different generation and a certain social class. Things were different when she was young.¡± ¡°Hmph.¡± Haley pushed back her chair. ¡°Ward, we should get some fresh air.¡± ¡°Right.¡± Ward stood and nodded to the captain. ¡°Listen, Captain Lemon, I¡¯ll keep poking around, and if I learn anything, you¡¯ll be the first to know.¡± ¡°See that you do. I hate to think there¡¯s a killer loose on my ship; it¡¯s fostering unease among the other guests.¡± ¡°With good reason!¡± Ward decided to push back a little¡ªgive the captain a taste of the pressure. ¡°I didn¡¯t book passage on this vessel thinking someone might slit my throat in my sleep. I hope I¡¯m not the only one trying to find the killer.¡± ¡°Not at all!¡± The captain harumphed, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. ¡°Naturally, me and my men are scouring the ship for clues, and I¡¯ve tripled the watch duties. It¡¯ll be a tough nut to crack if the scoundrel tries to repeat what he did!¡±Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. Ward nodded. ¡°Good to hear.¡± With another nod and a firm clap on the shoulder, he followed Haley out of the galley and onto the deck. They walked around the captain¡¯s castle to the rear part of the ship and climbed the short set of steps to the quarter deck. It was an ample, wide space with only an occasional crew member passing through. Ward figured it would be different if this were a sailboat, but with the big steam-driven engine chugging away, he had the impression that most of the crew duties were below decks. Haley stood at the top of the steps for a minute, and Ward tried not to hover or pester her, but he began to wonder if she¡¯d fallen into one of her depressions and if she would need some prodding to start her Gopah workout. He leaned against the railing, watching her for a minute, but decided to give her a chance to get her thoughts sorted. He turned to look out at the dark blue waters and almost immediately heard her quietly pad toward the far end of the deck, just beneath one of the enormous steam stacks. A few seconds later, her rhythmic breathing told him she¡¯d begun her practice. Ward hadn¡¯t heard from Grace yet that day, but before he could start talking to himself to see if she¡¯d respond, he heard boots on the metal steps to his right and looked to see Lisa ascending. She had her rapier on her belt, and Ward realized he¡¯d left his¡ªHaley¡¯s¡ªsword in the cabin. She must have seen his eyes drift toward the weapon because she arched an eyebrow. ¡°I thought we were going to practice.¡± ¡°Yeah, I¡¯ll go get my sword in a bit,¡± Ward covered, ¡°I thought we¡¯d talk a little first, now that we¡¯ve both had some time to think.¡± ¡°You can say that again,¡± she sighed. ¡°I don¡¯t think I slept more than an hour last night.¡± Ward nodded. ¡°Yeah, I did better than that, but I could use a few more hours. Probably going to turn in early tonight.¡± She moved to the railing, leaning her back against it. She glanced up and down the deck then, in a softer voice, asked, ¡°Is your conscience troubling you?¡± ¡°About?¡± She frowned, narrowing her eyes in poorly concealed irritation. ¡°Not turning me in.¡± ¡°Oh. No, I don¡¯t think so. I told you I got a good glimpse at the kind of man Raymond LaCorte was. I think, if anything about you is bothering me, it¡¯s the possibility that you¡¯re playing another angle with me.¡± Her frown deepened. ¡°An angle?¡± ¡°Yeah. I¡¯m still mulling over all the pieces, but I guess I¡¯m worried that you were acting a bit last night. For someone who could¡­¡± Ward paused, watching a crew member walk by carrying a large burlap sack. When he was a good way down the deck, he continued, ¡°Slice a man¡¯s throat, you seemed pretty shaken up confronting me with that little pistol. Your tears seemed a little too ready to flow.¡± ¡°Because I¡¯m not a monster!¡± she hissed, leaning toward him. ¡°I did not have an easy time doing what I did. Even so, I knew LaCorte was a monster, which made it easier. I had doubts about you. You know that! I told you as much.¡± Ward tried another angle, attempting to throw her off balance a little, ¡°What happened to the knife?¡± ¡°I threw it overboard!¡± Ward supposed it made sense; he¡¯d do the same. ¡°Must have been a hell of a sharp blade.¡± ¡°It was.¡± She turned to look out at the ocean, then glanced sideways at him. ¡°I¡¯m stronger than I look, too.¡± ¡°Yeah, I figure you are.¡± The truth was, Ward didn¡¯t want to convince himself that she was bad; he wanted to believe she could be a friend and that she genuinely was working against some evil people. Not because he felt like he needed more friends but for a more selfish and pragmatic reason: he wanted to see what he could learn from her about magic. Of course, the sword lessons would be nice, but he could get those from any number of people in a city; finding a friendly sorceress was another matter. ¡°Do you use a hemograph?¡± She turned toward him again. ¡°Naturally.¡± ¡°So? What level is your ¡®vessel,¡¯ if you don¡¯t mind me asking?¡± ¡°Ward, I know you told me you¡¯re new to this world, but you should be aware that such a question is considered exceedingly rude in the Vainglory System. It¡¯s also dangerous. You should only share the details of your hemograph readings with people you wholly trust, and I don¡¯t mean girlfriends or lovers. There are sorcerers who would pay courtesans to seduce a rival to learn even a little about their hemography.¡± ¡°Huh.¡± Ward turned back to the water and was surprised to see a gigantic gray whale breach the waters only a hundred yards or so away. It blew a plume of water from its blowhole and dove back in. ¡°Did you see that?¡± ¡°I did! Amazing!¡± Lisa was leaning forward, staring, clutching the railing with both hands. ¡°Anyway, sorry if my question was rude. Do you think I could ask you some general questions about hemograph readings, though?¡± ¡°Of course. I¡¯m happy to share some of my knowledge, especially considering your¡­discretion.¡± ¡°Oh, shit, that reminds me of another question.¡± Ward shifted, placing an elbow on the wide wooden railing. ¡°What, um, organization do you work for? You told me they¡¯re in league with the Assembly, but who are they?¡± Lisa shook her head. ¡°We¡¯re called the Oathbound, but I can¡¯t reveal other members, as our opposition to the Circle puts us at risk. I¡­I can introduce you to one of our leaders in Westview if you¡¯re interested.¡± ¡°Oathbound?¡± She nodded. ¡°Part of our initiation is a sworn oath to confront the Circle at any cost. It¡¯s why I had to act when I saw LaCorte at the captain¡¯s table.¡± ¡°I mean, you could¡¯ve waited until we got to shore and¡ª¡± ¡°Ward, please. Let¡¯s not rehash my¡­actions over and over. You know I felt pressured because I feared you and,¡± she nodded to Haley a dozen yards away doing her forms, ¡°your apprentice were in league with him. I was afraid¡ª¡± ¡°That we knew who you were.¡± Ward took a deep breath through his nose and blew it out as though sending thoughts about the murder away from his mind. After a few seconds, he asked, ¡°What can you tell me about anima?¡± At his question, she turned away from the ocean to look him in the eyes. ¡°Now, that¡¯s an intriguing change in topic!¡± ¡°Well?¡± ¡°Anima¡ªthe dense, purified form of mana that surrounds and protects our souls. Some scholars believe it¡¯s required for a soul to move from this world to the next. Some beings feed on it, gaining myriad benefits, from powerful energy for magic to the catalyzation of chemical compounds required for metamorphoses.¡± ¡°And an anima heart?¡± ¡°Oh, I see what¡¯s going on here! You¡¯ve been getting more information on your hemograph than you¡¯re used to, hmm? Did the ones on your homeworld not provide readings on anima and the associated attributes?¡± Ward shrugged. ¡°Yeah, you could say that.¡± ¡°An anima heart is¡­well, it¡¯s like an engine, the construct that houses a person¡¯s anima and uses it to shield their soul. It compounds and purifies anima and, so the rumors go, can be used to drive and draw anima through a person¡¯s anima pathways.¡± ¡°Rumors?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know how it¡¯s done, nor does anyone I¡¯ve ever met. I don¡¯t know what it would be for, unless it¡¯s just a more potent fuel for magic than mana. Of course, being a native of Tarnish, it¡¯s not surprising how little I know; I imagine there are those on the higher worlds who could teach us both a thing or two about anima. Even so, it¡¯s not worth getting too hung up on; mana is plenty potent for the types of magic you and I do, at least for now.¡± ¡°Fair enough. Speaking of¡ª¡± ¡°Tut, Ward, I¡¯m beginning to think of you as an ally, but let¡¯s not rush our courtship, shall we? Let¡¯s start with the swordwork, and if we still like each other in a few hours, perhaps we can talk about spells, hmm?¡± Ward smiled. He was starting to like her more and more. He hoped he wasn¡¯t being lulled by her friendly manner and pretty face, but he didn¡¯t think so. He had a good nose for trouble, and he could sense plenty of trouble lingering around Lisa, but it wasn¡¯t the kind of trouble that was malicious, not on her part. She wasn¡¯t trying to sell him anything or trick him, at least not yet, and his gut told him she wouldn¡¯t double-cross him. Of course, his gut was good, but it wasn¡¯t a flawless judge of character, and there was certainly the chance that she was just better at hiding her intentions than the hundreds of other criminals he¡¯d dealt with over the years. ¡°Yeah, all right. You think you can teach me much?¡± ¡°I can teach you more than you can learn on this little voyage, that¡¯s for certain. You already caught me in my lie about being a novice, so let me just say that I¡¯m far from it. I was a fool to hold you at gunpoint last night. If I¡¯d had my rapier in my hand¡ª¡± ¡°I would have thrown that chair a little harder and aimed more of it at your face, risking those nice straight teeth of yours.¡± Lisa¡¯s cheeks reddened, and she held her hand over her lips as she looked at him with a new, more wary expression. ¡°You¡¯re a little meaner than I gave you credit for.¡± ¡°I¡¯m just saying, a sword is great when you¡¯ve got room to maneuver, but when twenty pounds of hardwood comes flying at your face, and you¡¯ve got no way to deflect it without hurting yourself¡ª¡± ¡°I get the picture, Ward. In future endeavors, I¡¯ll be sure to consider chairs and their potential as weapons.¡± She rubbed her wrist, and Ward could see the green and yellow bruises from where the chair had hit her the night before. ¡°At least your bones didn¡¯t break, and I didn¡¯t wind up with a bullet in my eye.¡± ¡°Yes. Let¡¯s focus on the positive. So¡ªyour sword?¡± ¡°Right.¡± Ward turned away from her to look at Haley. She was still intensely focused on her drills and didn¡¯t see him trying to catch her eye. ¡°I¡¯ll go get it.¡± As he turned to leave, he looked into Lisa¡¯s green eyes and nodded. ¡°You know, if you look past the murder on the first night, I think this is going to be a pleasant boat ride.¡± She looked down at the mention of the murder, but when he finished his statement, she looked up and answered his smile with one of her own. ¡°I think so too, Ward. I think the next week is going to be a good one. I¡¯m glad we cleared the air.¡± 2.16 Extending Trust 16 ¨C Extending Trust It turned out that Ward¡¯s prediction for a productive and enjoyable sea voyage didn¡¯t jinx them and bring down the wrath of the heavens, at least for the next few days. He, Haley, and Lisa fell into an easy routine. Each morning after breakfast, Haley would practice her Gopah for hours while Lisa spent time going over basic sword-fighting drills with Ward. Despite the seeming simplicity of the instruction, Ward could feel it making a difference in the way he held and carried his sword, a familiarity that Lisa said was paramount to success with more advanced methodology. After lunch, they¡¯d sit around and chat, sometimes about magic but usually about the world and their lives. Ward would tell tales from his days as a criminal investigator, and Lisa would regale them with stories about the different parts of Cinder she¡¯d visited. She was remarkably well-traveled, having seen many cities and landmarks that Haley had only ever heard about in stories. Whenever Ward would try to steer the conversation toward spells and words of power, though, Lisa would shy away from the topic, insisting there would be plenty of time for such things as they grew to know each other better. Ward recognized her game and knew he could play it, too. She might be holding her cards close, but he spotted her attempts to fish for what she might be able to glean from them. All too often, she asked about the artifact he¡¯d taken from Nevkin, and Ward played the same coy game, saying there¡¯d be time enough for such dark matters when they weren¡¯t having such a pleasant voyage. She tried different angles, too, asking questions about his tongue, about the runes on Haley¡¯s sword, and, occasionally, when Haley was busy with her practice, she¡¯d ask about the younger woman¡¯s strange, pale eyes. Ward¡¯s avoidance of such topics and Lisa¡¯s desire to save talk of magic for another time served to highlight the fact that their trust in each other was far from absolute. Still, keeping conversations surface-level, focused on the mundane, was a nice break for a few days. Lisa was a gifted fencer, but her knowledge extended to other types of swords, even heavy broadswords like Ward¡¯s. Though her sword was far lighter and not meant for the same fighting style, she could demonstrate movements with it, and Ward would mimic her. She would walk around him, watching, pointing out flaws with his form, and helping him correct his posture and motions. Her little adjustments helped Ward to understand the importance of controlling his entire body with each sword movement. For instance, he learned what to do with his feet when parrying, chopping, thrusting, and feinting. In their basic-level drills, he learned to control his body, keeping his moves small and precise and never over-extending. Even so, Lisa showed him how his entire body was essential to delivering the proper power when it came to trying to land a decisive blow; turning at the hips and stepping into a cleave made all the difference. Toward the end of the fifth day of their voyage, they were just wrapping up such a lesson when Lisa said, ¡°I don¡¯t know if I¡¯ve explained this yet, but you won¡¯t be the only sword fighter to know about controlling his body. There¡¯s a trick, though: when you face an opponent, don¡¯t watch their face, don¡¯t lock eyes. Keep your gaze focused toward the center of their mass, and use your peripheral vision to give you hints about what they¡¯ll do next. You¡¯ll begin to notice patterns in how they move their feet and shift their weight¡ªthings like balancing with a free arm before a swing.¡± ¡°Makes sense. I guess it¡¯s human nature to try to read someone¡¯s intentions in their eyes, but a good fighter would know to keep their expression neutral.¡± ¡°Exactly!¡± Lisa smiled as she stuffed her rapier into her scabbard and wiped her brow with the sleeve of her loose, white blouse. Ward sighed and stretched, nodding, as he, too, sheathed his sword. ¡°Done for the day?¡± She shrugged. ¡°I think we¡¯ve been at it for more than three hours. I could use a break.¡± Ward regarded her for a quiet moment and then slowly shook his head. ¡°You know, I haven¡¯t been fair to you.¡± She reached up to brush a strand of blonde hair behind her ear, though the breeze coming off the sea almost immediately blew it loose again. ¡°What do you mean?¡± ¡°Well, shit, you¡¯ve been spending hours and hours helping me learn how to use this thing.¡± Ward gripped the pommel of his sword, lifting it an inch out of the scabbard and then letting it fall back in. ¡°What have I done for you?¡± She arched an eyebrow. ¡°Really? I could be locked in the ship¡¯s brig right now if¡ª¡± ¡°Nah, forget that. We,¡± Ward pointed to Haley on the other side of the quarter-deck, where she doggedly continued to practice her Gopah, ¡°didn¡¯t do that so we could hold it over your head. Anyway, I appreciate all your help, and if you want some answers about some of the weird stuff we¡¯ve got going on, I¡¯ll try to explain things to you.¡± She snorted, shaking her head, chuckling softly. ¡°Weird stuff?¡± ¡°You know what I mean. Like, I promised you a look at the artifact that was driving Nevkin nuts. Are you still interested in that?¡± ¡°More than interested, Ward! I¡¯d like to see it taken off the table¡ªrelegated to a deep, watery grave!¡± She gestured to the ocean. ¡°I won¡¯t lie; if I were able to document the artifact¡¯s disposal, my colleagues in the Oathbound would certainly sing my praises!¡± Ward narrowed his eyes, frowning. ¡°You don¡¯t even know what it is, though. How can you be sure disposal is the right move? I mean, you thought this tongue was the evil artifact. Were you planning¡­¡± He trailed off, realization stealing his words; Lisa had been trying to talk herself into killing him the night they¡¯d had their little confrontation. ¡°I¡¯m very glad that you haven¡¯t been affected by the same artifact that drove Nevkin mad, Ward, but I can promise you there are other members of the Circle who will be looking for it. You saw the havoc Nevkin wreaked around Applegrass. Imagine a more influential, more powerful sorcerer in a much more populous locale. There are some people like that in Westview, and many of them are quite rotten to the core, though they hide behind politics.¡± Ward slowly nodded, tucking his hands in his pockets. ¡°Let¡¯s take a beat and wait for Haley to finish. I¡¯d like to get her opinion about this.¡± Lisa smiled, cocking her head to the side. ¡°I love the way you include your apprentice. She¡¯s very fond of you, you know?¡± Ward sighed, shaking his head. ¡°She¡¯s not really an apprentice, Lisa. She does magic through Gopah, and, as far as that¡¯s concerned, she¡¯s nearly a master.¡± Lisa moved over to the railing and leaned against it before responding. ¡°She¡¯s a red adept, yes? She still has white and gray to go through before she reaches black. I believe that¡¯s the first rank where a ¡®master¡¯ moniker is considered appropriate.¡± ¡°You get my point, though¡ªshe¡¯s not my apprentice when it comes to magic or fighting.¡± ¡°That may be true, but she looks to you as a leader. She follows you and learns from you. You have far more life experience. I still believe ¡®apprentice¡¯ is an appropriate way to describe her.¡± Ward sighed, shrugging. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter. You need to understand that she and I are a team, and I value her opinion.¡± ¡°Fair enough.¡± Lisa turned to face the water, leaning out over the railing a little so the wind blew fully into her face. More of her hair came loose from the bun she¡¯d put it in, and she laughed, shaking it so it could flutter in the breeze. ¡°Feels so good after brisk exercise!¡± Ward nodded. He had his shirtsleeves rolled up, too. He leaned against the railing, watching Haley, and when she noticed him and smiled, he gave her a quick wave. ¡°I think she¡¯s finishing up; she usually doesn¡¯t make eye contact with anyone when she¡¯s in the midst of it.¡± Lisa turned, leaning beside him. ¡°Are you ever going to tell me about those strange, beautiful eyes of hers?¡±Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site. ¡°That¡¯s her story to tell.¡± They stood quietly, the silence perhaps a little awkward, but then Haley finished up and jogged over, grinning. Ward loved how she seemed fully back to her old self when she was fresh off her Gopah drills. ¡°All done?¡± he asked. ¡°I am! How about you? Did Lisa teach you some good tricks today?¡± ¡°I taught him how to stop overcommitting on his feints.¡± Lisa elbowed him gently, and Ward nodded. ¡°True.¡± Haley cocked her head, eyeing Ward and Lisa for a moment, then simply asked, ¡°What¡¯s next? Lunch?¡± ¡°Actually, Lisa has something to run by you.¡± Both women spoke at once: Haley asked, ¡°Me?¡± and Lisa, ¡°I do?¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± Ward shifted so he could look at Lisa directly. ¡°Go on; tell her what you think of that artifact we got from Nevkin.¡± Lisa licked her lips, perhaps a little nervously, slowly nodding as she spoke, ¡°Haley, I believe that artifact drove Nevkin mad. I believe it made dark promises to him, and I fear what will happen if it falls into the hands of someone truly powerful.¡± ¡°I can understand that. So, we¡¯ll make sure it doesn¡¯t.¡± Haley shrugged. ¡°Haley, don¡¯t you think tossing it into the sea would be better? We¡¯re midway from Port Granite to Westview. No one would ever find it again. Even someone with the ability to scry it out would be helpless to retrieve it from such depths!¡± Ward frowned. ¡°People could do that? ¡®Scry¡¯ it out?¡± ¡°I imagine so; there are spells to help locate people and things. My point stands, in any case. Who could possibly plumb the depths of this great body of water?¡± Ward shrugged. ¡°There are people in my world who could do it. We developed machines called submarines that can go to the bottom of the ocean.¡± Haley folded her arms over her chest. ¡°What if a sorcerer could do it? Either grant themselves the ability to swim so deeply or to conjure the artifact up through the water?¡± Lisa rubbed her chin as she turned to regard the deep, blue water, some doubt clouding her expression. ¡°I suppose I didn¡¯t think it through as much as I should have. I don¡¯t know of any such spells, but my knowledge is limited. Are you certain the artifact is safely contained?¡± Ward nodded. ¡°I think so. It¡¯s in a metal box and sealed with some alchemical metallic compound. I know Nevkin could hear it, but some runes on the box said something about giving the artifact your blood to learn its secrets; I¡¯m pretty sure he¡¯d done so prior to it being locked away.¡± ¡°Will you show it to me, Ward?¡± Lisa grasped his wrist as she spoke, but Ward didn¡¯t react to the touch. They¡¯d been ¡°touching¡± each other all week, during sword practice as she directed his posture and movements, so it didn¡¯t seem out of place. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯ll show it to you if it¡¯ll make you feel better. If we did want to destroy it, what would be the best way to go about it?¡± Lisa shook her head. ¡°I¡¯m not sure. I thought dumping it in the sea would be sufficient, but if it had a bond with Nevkin and could call out to him, who¡¯s to say it hasn¡¯t bonded with other people over the years? Perhaps it could call someone with the ability to bring it forth from a watery tomb!¡± Haley snapped her fingers. ¡°Why don¡¯t we take it to a blacksmith and have ¡®em melt it in the forge?¡± ¡°That¡¯s¡­¡± Lisa frowned and shrugged. ¡°That¡¯s certainly an idea. Can we all agree that we must keep it out of other people¡¯s hands for now? If so, perhaps we could ask one of the members of my order for guidance. As I said, one of our leaders lives in Westview.¡± ¡°Fine with me.¡± Ward gently prodded Haley¡¯s shoulder. ¡°You good with that?¡± ¡°I am! If you don¡¯t mind a change in topic, did you two notice my drill? I think I performed the seventh movement perfectly for the first time!¡± ¡°I certainly saw you practicing, Haley,¡± Lisa said, smiling broadly at the younger woman, ¡°but I don¡¯t know enough about Gopah to recognize one movement from the other. I know what it means, though¡ªare you now a white adept?¡± Haley shook her head. ¡°Not yet. I have to perform it before a master to ensure I haven¡¯t made an error.¡± Her grin widened as she looked at Ward. ¡°I¡¯m sure I did it correctly, though! I could feel that it was right!¡± ¡°Hell, yes! That¡¯s great, Haley! We should celebrate!¡± Haley took a step back and pressed her hands together, bowing at the waist in a strangely formal gesture. ¡°I have a favor I would like to request.¡± She looked at Lisa, including her in the odd little ritual. ¡°From both of you.¡± Ward immediately replied, ¡°Anything.¡± Lisa looked from Haley to Ward, then back again, her eyes narrowing slightly. ¡°I¡¯ll do what I can¡ª¡± ¡°Thank you!¡± Haley beamed. ¡°I would like you each to share a spell with the other. I think it¡¯s time we start extending some trust to each other, especially if we¡¯re going to enter the next challenge together.¡± Ward cleared his throat. ¡°What?¡± Lisa was a bit more verbose, ¡°We never discussed such an arrangement¡ª" ¡°It¡¯s true,¡± Haley nodded, ¡°that we haven¡¯t discussed it in so many words, but we¡¯ve talked about the spire several times, and you¡¯ve said that groups of people fared better, on average, than solo entrants. You¡¯ve said that you admire Ward¡¯s strength and how he keeps calm under pressure. You¡¯ve complimented me on my fighting skills more than once. You even expressed regret that you didn¡¯t stick with us in the catacombs, considering the relics we walked out with. So, were you just being kind, or did you mean those things?¡± Lisa folded her arms over her chest¡ªa defensive posture¡ªbut she contradicted her body language by slowly nodding. ¡°Those things are all true, and I¡¯d be lying if I said I hadn¡¯t considered the possibility. Are you saying you¡¯d welcome me?¡± Haley smiled. ¡°I would welcome you, and I know Ward would, too.¡± ¡°Haley, I¡ª¡± Ward frowned. The truth was, the only hangup he had at this point was that he wasn¡¯t sure Grace would appreciate it. How would Lisa, an ¡°Oathbound,¡± react to the ¡°devil¡± in Ward¡¯s head? Would she have to hide the entire time they were in the ¡°spire?¡± He sighed, shrugged, and, knowing he¡¯d probably pay for it later, said, ¡°I think it would be great to have someone so knowledgeable with us if we attempt another challenge.¡± ¡°In that case¡­¡± Lisa inhaled deeply, a slow smile spreading on her lips as she looked from Haley to Ward. ¡°How could I say no?¡± ¡°Yes!¡± Haley cheered, pumping a fist in the air. Ward laughed when a small gout of fire exploded upward from her knuckles, followed by a puff of black smoke. ¡°Nice one!¡± He held out his palm, and Haley slapped it, her palm hot as a baked potato. ¡°I¡¯ll track down some alcohol for us to share, but you two should sit in the sun over there and talk about magic.¡± Haley didn¡¯t wait for any arguments as she turned and jogged away, hopping down the short flight of stairs, agile as a cat. ¡°All right,¡± Lisa admitted, ¡°I¡¯m beginning to see what you mean by her being more of a partner than an apprentice. I like her idea about sitting in the sun, though; this breeze grows chilly as the heat from our exertions fades.¡± Ward nodded, leading the way. The spot was in the lee of the steam stack, and shielded by it and the waist-high railing, the sea breeze only hit them with an occasional gust. Meanwhile, the sun felt glorious even though it was Fall on Cinder. Ward sat cross-legged, and Lisa mimicked his posture right in front of him, their knees almost touching. After a moment of silence, as they both soaked in the heat of the warm planks and the sun on their faces, she asked, ¡°Have you ever traded for spells before?¡± Ward nodded. ¡°I have, but once was with a nice, elderly woman whom I trusted, and the other time, the guy tried to kill me and steal my grimoire.¡± Lisa chuckled. ¡°I wish I could say such behavior was uncommon among sorcerers, but it¡¯s more the norm than the exception. That being said, I¡¯m very pleased to have met you, Ward. I¡¯m happy that my fears proved unfounded.¡± ¡°Listen, before we talk about spells, can I ask you a few more general questions about hemographs? I won¡¯t ask you about your readings. I learned my lesson about that, but maybe you could help me understand a few other things.¡± She nodded. ¡°Of course.¡± ¡°Okay, to start with, what¡¯s the deal with bloodlines?¡± Lisa¡¯s face didn¡¯t betray a reaction, but she leaned back, resting one hand on the deck as she tilted her face more fully toward the sun. Without looking at Ward, she asked, ¡°Bloodlines weren¡¯t uncovered on your homeworld?¡± ¡°No. Magic was very¡­limited on Earth.¡± Lisa kept her eyes closed as she began to speak, her voice calm and somehow soothing to Ward. ¡°Well, Bloodlines are complex things. In the simplest of terms, a bloodline is a kind of inheritance, not just in terms of ancestry but in power. It¡¯s the essence of what¡¯s passed down through generations, encoded in a person''s blood¡ªan imprint, if you will. Because of bloodlines, some families can call on magic naturally while others struggle their entire lives to grasp even the basics.¡± She shifted slightly, turning to face him, squinting in the sunlight as she opened her eyes. ¡°A hemograph can reveal traces of bloodlines¡ªlatent or active, strong or weak. Some bloodlines are blessed by old pacts or cursed by ancient mistakes. That¡¯s another reason it¡¯s dangerous to ask someone about their hemograph readings¡ªsome people view it as personal as peeking into their soul.¡± Lisa paused, then added, ¡°There are different kinds, of course. Some are well-documented; you can find tomes with descriptions and histories in most major cities. However, many aren¡¯t so well known. If a person had one of those less common bloodlines, they¡¯d have to risk waking it and seeing what it did to understand it better.¡± ¡°Waking?¡± ¡°Yes. Some rituals will bring a bloodline forth. Unfortunately, one ritual that might work for a certain bloodline may do nothing for another. I¡¯ve heard of artifacts that can wake latent bloodlines, and, of course, I¡¯ve read accounts of people finding concoctions in the challenges that can wake a bloodline to one degree or another.¡± ¡°Like the refinement potions?¡± Lisa smiled, closing her eyes again. ¡°Exactly.¡± ¡°Can a person have more than one bloodline?¡± Lisa nodded. ¡°Can a person have more than one ancestor?¡± Ward laughed. ¡°I mean, can they all be¡­active?¡± ¡°I¡¯m not sure, Ward, but I don¡¯t think so. My tutor told me you could view a bloodline like a pie pan¡ªyou can fill it with slices of various pies or a whole pie of a single type, but you only have one pan. A single, fully-developed bloodline, brought forth completely, will be far stronger than if you only have a slice of it.¡± ¡°Do you think your, uh, tutor was right?¡± Lisa giggled. ¡°I don¡¯t know, but I¡¯d like to think so. My father spent a fortune on him over the years.¡± Suddenly, Lisa sat up straight, arching her back in a deep stretch as she yawned. Of course, seeing her yawn like that made Ward yawn, and she laughed. ¡°We better talk about our spells and make a trade, or we¡¯ll need a nap first!¡± 9.17 Westview 17 ¨C Westview ¡°So,¡± Lisa said, ¡°shall we fetch our grimoires and meet back here in five minutes?¡± Ward nodded, hopping to his feet. It never ceased to amaze him how limber and strong his body was. Back in his old life, getting up off the floor would have involved some grunting, groaning, and a lot more clambering. ¡°Sounds good.¡± They walked together to the passenger deck and into the propped-open doorway that gave access to the various passenger cabins and staterooms. Lisa went one way and Ward the other, and as soon as he rounded a corner, he felt Grace¡¯s presence before she spoke. ¡°Hey,¡± he grunted. ¡°Hi,¡± she replied, her voice a bit subdued. Ward glanced at her sharply. He¡¯d anticipated her chewing him out about his and Haley¡¯s new partnership with Lisa. ¡°Something wrong?¡± ¡°Not really. I¡¯m glad you and Haley are getting along with Lisa. I just feel¡­¡± She trailed off as Ward opened their cabin door and slipped inside. He looked at her as he closed the door, frowning. ¡°Left out?¡± ¡°Yeah, I think that sums it up. It gets old just watching all the time, and Haley and you have been coming back to the room later and later each day. We hardly talk before you go to sleep, and¡ª¡± Ward walked over to his backpack and rummaged for his spellbook. ¡°I¡¯m planning to tell Lisa about you, so don¡¯t worry; you won¡¯t have to hide forever.¡± ¡°Are you?¡± Her voice perked up a bit. ¡°Do you think that¡¯s a good idea?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know. I¡¯ll probably wait until we¡¯ve built a bit more trust. Okay? Can you live like this a little longer? She¡¯s still a little spooked about the whole Nevkin-artifact-murder situation, you know? Let¡¯s make it to Westview, and then we¡¯ll see how things stand.¡± ¡°Okay, but, Ward, you¡¯ve got to be smart about this trade. Don¡¯t give her your best spells!¡± ¡°Which ones are those?¡± ¡°You know! You already let slip that you can ¡®find secrets¡¯ about people like Raymond Lacorte, for instance. She¡¯s going to want that spell. That¡¯s a rare one; I can feel it, and it makes you sort of valuable. I guess that¡¯s the right word.¡± She put a hand on his shoulder as he straightened with his grimoire in hand. ¡°You won¡¯t trade the one Aldiss gave you, will you?¡± ¡°Hell no. I figure I¡¯ll trade either the one I got from Maggie or the one I took from that shithead who tried to steal my book.¡± ¡°Elliot!¡± Grace practically spat the name. ¡°Right.¡± Ward stood and walked to the door but paused and looked into Grace¡¯s eyes, watching the flames flicker faintly. ¡°I¡¯m sorry you have to hide for now.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not so bad. I can still watch and experience things through you. I¡¯ve been rather enjoying Lisa¡¯s instruction. You know, you¡¯re not my first host to use a sword. I can probably help you as I did with riding.¡± Ward smiled. ¡°That¡­would be pretty cool, Grace.¡± With that, he opened the door and strode down the hallway to the exit. A minute or two later, he sat on the quarter-deck with his spellbook on his lap. To his surprise, Haley returned before Lisa did. She held aloft a bottle of amber liquor and three short tumblers as she approached. ¡°To celebrate!¡± Ward smiled, squinting into the sun. ¡°Nice one. Where¡¯d you score that?¡± ¡°Bought it from the captain. Are you and Lisa finished?¡± ¡°Nah, she¡¯s getting her spellbook.¡± Ward gestured to where he saw Lisa approaching. She¡¯d donned a floppy, pale gray hat with a wide brim. Haley nodded. ¡°I¡¯ll wait over there.¡± She pointed to the railing and walked over to sit down, closing her eyes as she soaked in the sunlight. Lisa sat down, a slender book with a floral-printed jacket clutched in her hand. ¡°I see our young friend has acquired some spirits!¡± ¡°Yeah, she¡¯s eager to toast her success with the Gopah.¡± Ward chuckled, shaking his head. ¡°Seems odd to me. When I think of Gopah, it reminds me of old kung fu movies, and I can¡¯t remember any of those masters drinking booze to celebrate their success.¡± He laughed. ¡°I mean, unless you count Drunken Master.¡± Lisa cocked her head, giving Ward a quizzical look. ¡°Kung fu? Movies?¡± Ward slapped a hand to his forehead. ¡°Oof! I keep forgetting where I am. Sorry! You have theaters here, yeah? People acting out plays?¡± She nodded, her eyes bright. ¡°Indeed! I¡¯ve seen some excellent plays. There¡¯s a renowned theater in Westview, in fact!¡± ¡°Movies are kind of like theater, and kung fu is something a little like Gopah from my world.¡± Ward shrugged, leaving it at that. He nodded to her book. ¡°Have you thought of a spell you¡¯re willing to trade?¡± ¡°I have a couple. This is the tricky part. I bet you don¡¯t want to tell me all your spells and allow me to choose one, hmm?¡± Ward clicked his tongue, shaking his head slightly. ¡°Yeah, it is tricky, isn¡¯t it? Even though I consider you a friend, there are things I want to keep for myself. Do you feel the same way?¡± ¡°Of course! We wizards and witches must guard our secrets!¡± She winked, and Ward wondered if she was making light of the labels or the irony of the words being true. ¡°How about this, Ward: tell me the spell you¡¯re most willing to trade, and I¡¯ll tell you if I¡¯m interested.¡± ¡°Or, how about you tell me the spell you¡¯re most¡ª¡± Lisa laughed and waved a hand. ¡°Fine! I¡¯ll go first, though I can¡¯t help but count this as a mark against your chivalric honor!¡± When Ward just grinned and shrugged, she sighed. ¡°I¡¯ll tell you about my first real spell, taught to me by the very same tutor whom my father paid a fortune to over the years to give me a proper lady¡¯s education. I call it ¡®Whisper Wind,¡¯ and it allows the caster to send or bring words through the wind over a remarkably long distance. For instance, if I wanted to hear what yonder crewmen were speaking about,¡± Lisa nodded toward a pair of men gesturing and laughing near the captain¡¯s castle, ¡°I could do so. I could also send my whispers directly into their ears.¡± ¡°Hmm.¡± Ward nodded, rubbing his chin. ¡°I can see how that could be useful.¡± ¡°You don¡¯t sound very intrigued at the prospect.¡± Lisa sighed and clutched her spellbook, holding it close to her chest. ¡°Now I¡¯ve gone and revealed a spell, and you hold all the cards!¡± ¡°Fine, fine.¡± Ward waved a hand. ¡°I have a spell that can enchant weapons or objects so that they won¡¯t miss and will do extra damage¡ªonce.¡± ¡°Oh?¡± Lisa licked her lips. ¡°I could cast it on my rapier?¡± ¡°Yep. It also works on thrown items, but I haven¡¯t tried it on a projectile, like an arrow or bullet.¡± Ward could see she was intrigued. She¡¯d taken the bait; now he had to set the hook. ¡°I think it¡¯s worth more than that whisper spell. To be fair, your spell sounds like a first spell, you know?¡± A word was on the tip of his tongue, and to his delight, it came to him: ¡°Like a cantrip.¡± Lisa frowned, but she didn¡¯t argue. ¡°I have another utility spell that I could sweeten the deal with. I call it ¡®Feather Touch.¡¯ When you cast it, anything you touch, including yourself or another person, will become light as a feather for nearly a minute. It¡¯s more useful than you might think; I¡¯ve used it to jump over a tall fence. You see, your muscles will still work the same, so you can leap quite far.¡±The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there. ¡°You¡¯ll trade both of those for True Strike?¡± Lisa pressed her lips together, clearly having a mental argument with herself, but finally, she nodded. Ward wondered at that. He was getting two spells for one, but, as she¡¯d admitted, hers were novice-level utility spells. Did she have more potent spells to trade? Was she operating with just what she¡¯d learned from her ¡°tutor?¡± Her spellbook was quite slim, but if Ward took out the blank pages in his, it would be even slimmer. He supposed he¡¯d seen her do at least one more potent spell when she summoned Raymond¡¯s spirit. Even so, it hadn¡¯t exactly proved useful. Ward watched her for a few seconds, wondering if she¡¯d speak, but she continued to stare, tight-lipped. ¡°It sounds fair to me. You¡¯re not upset, are you?¡± She sighed explosively and shook her head, opening her book. ¡°Not upset, just stressed. I¡¯m not good at bargaining.¡± She did something to loosen her book¡¯s binding and began to slide a page out. Ward watched for a moment, then turned to his own book, finding the spell he¡¯d copied from Maggie¡¯s grimoire. He had a pen tucked into his book''s binding and lifted it out, waiting for Lisa to remove her second spell. ¡°Here you are,¡± she held out two thin pages, and Ward took them, handing her his spell. Ten minutes later, they exchanged pages back, and Ward slipped his three spells¡ªtwo of them new¡ªinto his grimoire. Lisa did the same, then looked up at him. ¡°That went fairly well. Perhaps we can trade another sometime? Perhaps one of your more potent ones?¡± ¡°Maybe.¡± It was Ward¡¯s turn to wink. ¡°Depends on what you have to offer.¡± When Lisa smiled, indicating she appreciated his humor, Ward nodded to Haley. ¡°Let¡¯s have a drink.¡± They ended up having more than one drink that afternoon, and by the time they went to the captain¡¯s table for dinner, they were all well on their way to being drunk. After dinner, Lisa talked him and Haley into allowing her to inspect the sealed metal box. When she agreed that it seemed harmless and inert the way it was packaged, she¡¯d visibly relaxed. She¡¯d wished Ward and Haley a good night, then left, promising to meet them, as usual, for sword practice in the morning. That was the first time since they¡¯d boarded the ship that Ward really let go of his stress and allowed himself to have fun without worrying about murders, betrayal, or being robbed or killed. To his amazement, he made it through the night unscathed and without losing his spells or any of his artifacts. The next day, Ward spent his time waiting for the other shoe to drop; he¡¯d traded magic, shown Lisa the artifact, and allowed himself to get drunk and careless¡ªsurely something terrible was bound to go wrong. His dread never bore fruit, though, and the day passed uneventfully. The rest of the journey followed the same pattern. They practiced, they ate, they drank, they slept, and one day blended into the next until, after eight days at sea, the lookout spotted land, and the big ship¡¯s steam-driven foghorn trumpeted triumphantly over the calm waves. Ward, Haley, and Lisa moved to the foredeck and watched as they approached the busy port of Westview. The city had a very different look than Port Granite or Tarnish. Beyond the high soot-stained walls, on sloping hills that ran to the horizon, endless fallow fields and Fall-colored orchards stretched away as far as he could see. The sea crashed against rocky shores outside the inlet that served as the city¡¯s port. Within those calmer waters, hundreds of ships vied for space¡ªthe captains and crew shouting over the water, blowing fog horns, and generally having to fight for every few feet on their way to and from the docks. As the ship approached the inlet, the other passengers crowded onto the foredeck as well, eager to see their destination first-hand. They talked to pass the time, but Ward¡¯s attention was on the city. It reminded him of old movies and photos he¡¯d seen of London or New York during the Industrial Revolution. The closer they got, the more he smelled the tang of coal smoke and hot metal drifting over the water. The city''s skyline was a jagged silhouette of chimneys, smokestacks, and spires piercing the mist. Pipes and iron frameworks crisscrossed between buildings, and as they drew nearer, he could make out the dim, flickering glow of gaslights lining the streets. It was as if the city itself was alive, breathing steam and smoke, gears grinding with every pulse of industry. Ward was torn between awe and disgust as he saw the black clouds billowing out of hundreds¡ªno, thousands of stacks. ¡°It¡¯s grimier than I remember,¡± Lisa remarked. Ward nodded. ¡°Looks like they¡¯ve really embraced coal. It seemed like Port Granite leaned more heavily on gas and steam.¡± ¡°It¡¯s Cinder,¡± Lisa sighed. ¡°We¡¯ve come much further from the burn, so the city has had more time to recover and rebuild. When you know everything will be destroyed in another hundred years, I think it fosters the cutting of corners¡ªquick industry.¡± Ward nodded. He¡¯d almost forgotten about the ¡°burn.¡± It still boggled his mind how a line of fire dozens of miles wide could continuously burn, circling the globe perpetually. They made more small talk as they waited for the ship to slowly make its way to port. Luckily, the captain had some pull with the dockmasters, and the emissary he sent ahead on the ship¡¯s tender to make arrangements secured them a berth. Even so, it was nearly four hours until the cargo vessel was secured, and the crew lowered the gangway. Captain Lemon showed them off, waving and nodding just as he did for the rest of the passengers. The widow LaCorte, Gerty, was guided away by the first mate, and Ward thought it was strange how the murder seemed to have been wholly forgotten by all but the grieving woman. The captain never mentioned it, and though he had plenty to say, Ward made himself complicit in the glossing over of the crime by keeping his secrets to himself. When he, Haley, and Lisa stood on the sidewalk of the port¡¯s busy main thoroughfare, Lisa grabbed his elbow and asked, ¡°Where will you stay?¡± Ward looked up and down the street, struggling to contain his desire to hold his jacket¡¯s sleeve over his nose. The stink of old fish, sewage, and soot vied for his nose¡¯s attention, only thinly covering the pungent, lingering odor of urine. His eyes watered from the acidic air, and though it had been sunny out on the sea, it felt like a perpetual dark cloud hung over the city. More than a few people walking up and down the street wore bandanas over their mouths and noses, and Ward decided that if they spent much time there, he¡¯d have to purchase a few. ¡°Ward?¡± Haley prodded. ¡°Oh.¡± Ward turned back to Lisa. ¡°I wonder if there¡¯s a decent inn outside the city, away from some of this stink.¡± Lisa smiled and nodded. ¡°We need to move up the hill away from the port. The¡­better districts are northwest of here, and you¡¯ll find that most of this smog will be blown out to sea when the weather changes a bit. Come on, we can share a cab, and, that way, I¡¯ll see where you and Haley are staying, and we can get together to plan our next steps.¡± ¡°Right,¡± Ward nodded, ¡°next steps.¡± Lisa pointed out a black-enameled horseless carriage powered by a burbling brass-and-porcelain steam engine, and Ward stepped in front of it, waving to get the driver¡¯s attention. The little cap-wearing driver pulled to the curb, the tall, narrow, rubber-lined wheels sloshing through the reeking sludge in the gutter. Ward stepped back, not wanting to get splashed, and then, when it came to a halt, he pulled the door open for Haley and Lisa. Ward helped the driver load their packs and Lisa¡¯s trunk atop the cab, then clambered in after them, pleased that the vehicle, at least, seemed clean and well-appointed. The seats were soft and smelled like oiled leather, their tufted upholstery contouring to Ward¡¯s frame nicely. When the driver looked back over his shoulder, his hands resting on the brass levers he used to control the vehicle, Lisa said, ¡°Governor¡¯s District, please.¡± ¡°Oh, right you are, madam. A pleasure to drive ¡®cross town for a change.¡± He pushed the lever on the left forward, and the little vehicle warbled, chugged, and then lurched forward. Lisa looked at Ward and smiled at his rather stony expression. ¡°You¡¯ll like Westview once we get away from this stink.¡± ¡°Right she is, sir,¡± the driver chimed in. ¡°If you¡¯ve never visited before, the port ain¡¯t the place to take your first impression.¡± Ward nodded. ¡°Fair enough. I¡¯ll keep an open mind.¡± ¡°Most places we¡¯ll want to visit are near the Governor¡¯s District¡ªthe auction hall, the outfitters, the spire, my colleague.¡± She winked when she said, ¡°colleague,¡± and Ward knew she was talking about the man who was supposedly one of the leaders of the Oathbound. Lisa turned toward the driver and raised her voice, ¡°Can you suggest a fine inn? My friends have had a long voyage and are looking for something a bit posh.¡± ¡°Oh, aye, madam! The Iron and Ivy would suit your company just fine.¡± ¡°Yes!¡± Lisa¡¯s eyes lit up, and she turned to Ward and Haley. ¡°I¡¯ve seen the place. It¡¯s lovely, and if I¡¯m not mistaken, it¡¯s not far from where I¡¯ll be staying.¡± ¡°Where will you be staying?¡± Haley asked. ¡°My cousin, Laurent DeGrace, is the Director of Commerce and Trade here in Westview, and I¡¯ll stay at his¡ª¡± ¡°You¡¯re related to Lord DeGrace, madam?¡± the nosy driver interjected, and Ward had to chuckle at the flicker of irritation in Lisa¡¯s eyes. ¡°Yes, goodman, I am. You may rest assured, you¡¯ll be well-compensated for the drive through town.¡± Lisa turned back to Ward and Haley and began to talk about the city¡ªrestaurants she enjoyed, tailors and dress shops they simply ¡°had to visit,¡± and a dozen other little commentaries that served to pass the time as the cab made slow, plodding progress through the busy streets. While she spoke, Ward looked out the window, amazed at how different the atmosphere was on this side of the sea. He could see a clear delineation between the classes that hadn¡¯t been so obvious in Port Granite and had seemed absent altogether in Tarnish. Thinking about Tarnish got him thinking about Fay, and when there was a lull in the conversation, he cleared his throat and asked, ¡°Can you help us find a messenger to bring some correspondence to Tarnish?¡± Lisa smiled and nodded. ¡°Of course! My cousin will know whom to hire.¡± Ward gave a short, satisfied nod and leaned back in his seat, once again watching out the window as they slowly worked their way north, west, and up out of the clinging filth and miasma of the lower streets. The higher they rose, the more distant the chaos of the ports became, like waking from an unsettling dream. Part of him felt guilty, leaving the squalor behind, knowing he was relying on Haley¡¯s wealth, but he knew he was capable, himself, of success. The thought stirred something deep within him¡ªan eager restlessness to face the next challenge.