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The cell smelled like old cheese—stronger toward the back where a handful of slots had been carved into the wall for ventilation. Without my armor or jacket, it was cold, but the bed to one side had a fur on top. The hay in the bed was relatively fresh, as was the water in the large pot in the corner. A length of twine connected the pot’s lip to a mug hanging from it.

I was in remarkably better shape than the last time I’d found myself imprisoned. I hadn’t been questioned, and there’d been no magic smoke or spells. I was on my own, though, separated from my team and my guards. We’d been split up almost as soon as the land soldiers had arrived on the scene.

Talking to them had been a blur, my attention stuck on making sure Miklatsei was caught along with the rest of us. Good men, Grasset and his team member had stood at the entrance to the soaper’s shop to make sure the would-be assassin couldn’t get out to help his accomplices. It also meant that Miklatsei had been trapped until he could be handed over to the land soldiers. Apparently, there’d been a scuffle, but the two guards had been able to overpower him.

At the moment, all I could do was wait, so I covered my shoulders with the fur and measured the distance between the cell walls, which was ten steps. I sat on the bed to kick my feet. Trying to sleep was useless: Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Kuros’s head nearly coming loose from his body. My stomach sank thinking about my teammates in trouble. I worried about the tournament, and if our plans would be impeded by the night’s events.

Yuki wasn’t even around to chat with; they’d gone back to Tegen. I’d call them back as soon as anything truth-related happened, but until then, they had work to do. I could feel the intensity of their focus through our connection. Tegen was close to finalizing the refinement of the qi in his belly dantian.

That was where the two of them had started. It’d been a couple of seasons since my own qi’s refinement, and Yuki had had lots of time to study, think, and experiment to find the best way to replicate the process. We’d had Billisha, Aluali, and even Bihei to think about.

Anyway, I was in the basement of a combination administrative station and barrack used by the land soldiers, so I occasionally heard the sound of boots walking past. As far as I knew, I was the only one from my team taken here. The land soldiers had taken the others in different directions.

There wasn’t any entertainment, so I eventually sat with my back to the door to listen to the people going past. Once I heard someone drunk singing an absolutely filthy song, and another time it was two people arguing about an unfair split of their spoils.

A woman’s voice cut through their argument. “Draw that knife, and I’ll gut you myself.”

The wood thumped as if someone had been thrown against it, and the voices on the other side went quiet. I listened, but all I heard afterward was a faint whimpering. Then, the sound of steps fading away.

The station was located near the city wall, north of the Brambles in the Butchery, so maybe it was a couple of hunters who’d brought their game to be processed?

I continued to sit by the door in case there was more to hear, but it was just boots going this way and that until, after about another hour, I heard a whole collection of them stop just on the other side. I quickly stood.

The cell door clanked as the security bar outside was slid open. Then, a softer click came from the lock, and the door swung open to reveal a pair of land soldiers. A third stood farther back—she was bigger than the other two and carried my weapons and armor.

“Get dressed,” she said.

“I’m free to go?”

She looked at me like I was a fool. “We’re going for a walk.”

“Anywhere special?” I asked, letting the fur drop from my shoulders and getting my stuff. There were another two land soldiers in the corridor, making for a total of five. Wherever I was going, I’d have a whole team with me.

“Just do as your told,” she said.

So, I checked the land soldiers out while gearing up, but they were nothing special, not even their leader:

Noospet the Breaker (Human)
Talents: Natural Grappler, Well Trained, Gets the Job Done

There wasn’t a hint of qi or mana on any of them either, so I could ditch them if needed. Hopefully it wouldn’t be.

As we headed to the stairs leading up, I snuck a glance back and saw that there were no ghosts in the corridor or blood against the door—the anonymous prisoner hadn’t been gutted, and I breathed easier. Whoever he’d been, he didn’t mean anything to me, but if the land soldiers had stabbed him for noncompliance... well, my impression of Albei was already complicated. I preferred not to have it tank completely.

The station upstairs was quiet, with just a couple of lanterns burning to light the way. It was full dark outside, and the city was asleep except for the few land soldiers still on duty. We passed empty office after empty office, until we passed through the lobby to outside.

The air was biting cold, and my breath frosted. I pulled my cloak tighter around me, and asked, “Where are we going?”

Noospet responded, “You’re being questioned elsewhere. Don’t make any trouble for us, and we won’t trouble you in return. Got it?”

I signed the Diaksh equivalent of “okay” and waited, but it was only a couple of minutes before another land soldier arrived on the back of giant dog. The dog was a beast—the tops of his shoulders well above my head—and he steamed like an old-fashioned locomotive.

Noospet surreptitiously signed a “sorry” to the rider, and the rider signed his own “okay, okay” back.

My clock said it was nearly eleven in the evening when we got underway. The dog’s harness was embedded with candle stones at the front and back, and two of the guards carried lanterns to help light the way.

I, unsurprisingly, walked in the middle of them all. We passed through the outer sections of the Butchery and crossed into the plaza. Shockingly, the market at the eastern end was still going. I saw people moving among the lights, and heard music meandering over the otherwise-empty space.

The Hunter’s Lodge was mostly dim, with just the door way lit and a single light on the rooftop. Idly, I wondered if Silasenei was up there and watching.

We kept going past the lodge, past the market, and into the Butchery’s business district. I wished I had my gloves with me; I had to settle for pulling my sleeves down over my hands and folding my arms over my chest.

For another hour we walked, kept company only by the occasional soft whispers of the guards and the jingling from the dog’s harness and the land soldiers’ armor. Eventually, I caught sight of our eventual destination—past Albei’s pyramid was Ithia’s fortress.

###

We went in through a postern door to the south of the main gate. A single land soldier stood outside, wrapped in a thick cloak. The area around him was lit by a lantern built into the wall just above the door.

Passing through, I confirmed that the stone was the same as in the city walls, but they were about three-quarters as thick, which was still damn impressive. Two more land soldiers stood guard inside, but the courtyard beyond them was otherwise clear. A lone light shone from what looked like a stable for giant dogs, but the rest was moonlight and night shadows.

Noospet briefly huddled with the land soldiers on duty, and one of them left her post to lead us toward a massive castle in the style of a ziggurat. My first thought was that it looked like a wedding cake with how each layer was smaller than the one below it. The terraces weren’t decorative, though. They were lined with mounted ballista, as well as fortified nests for land soldiers to fight from.

The entire courtyard area was effectively one big kill zone, and from the number of wandering ghosts wandering, it’d been used as one. Which was unsettling. The city didn’t lack for ghosts—every street I’d visited had a few—but I’d not seen the same density of them anywhere else. It was a reminder that power drew power.

During the Long Dark, the attacking beasts would do everything they could to reach Albei’s pyramid and the Ithia’s fortress. Except the plaza around the pyramid wasn’t this crowded with ghosts. The reason why wasn’t obvious, and I gave up on the question almost as soon as it popped into my head. I had other things to worry about.

We were handed off from one land soldier to another, but our new guide took the time to inspect us before letting us through, going so far as to quiz my escorts. None of the land soldiers around me were slackers, but her spirit was particularly tense—on edge in a way the others weren’t.

We stood in the courtyard for almost twenty minutes until she let us through. The air inside wasn’t much warmer, but I was grateful to be out of the wind.

The interior was similar to Albei’s pyramid: The first room was a lobby with a depressed floor and a single corridor leading deeper in. Instead of doors to each side, though, there were slotted windows. I didn’t have the leeway to go look, but I was sure they were meant to be murder holes. The entire corridor was lined with them.

Our guide walked at a solid clip, leading us through a veritable maze of rooms and corridors. For a while it felt like we were climbing switchbacks, and one time, I was sure we circled an entire floor before we were allowed to climb the next set of stairs.

Obviously, the layout was intentional to the fortress’s defense, but I couldn’t believe there weren’t quicker ways to go from points A to B. It was impossible that the architects would so badly neglect the building’s staff—to make their lives that miserable. Right? Surely, the route we were taking was for guests and strangers: people who weren’t allowed to know the real, secret ways of the fortress.

I could only hope so for the staff’s sake.

###

We arrived in front of a pair of double doors ten feet tall and joined at the top to form an arch. They were bronze and green with age. They were beautiful too with the image of a dragon’s head beaten into the surface.

The land soldiers standing guard shared the same tension as our guide. They both searched us before opening the doors to let us through. Whatever they were looking for, it wasn’t weapons. They let us keep all our gear, even me.

When the doors opened, it looked like the dragon’s mouth opening to swallow us whole. The effect was cleverly done. When I reached out to touch one of the doors, though, the closest guard gripped my wrist, and shook his head at me.

Under other circumstances, I would’ve loved to linger to look at the doors more closely. There was something about them that made my eyes tingle. Then I saw what awaited us at the room’s far end, and I had to close them—to back off from the spirit world—for fear of being overwhelmed.

It’d been months since the last time my spirit eyes disoriented me. With practice, I’d grown accustomed to the flow of extrasensory information, no longer needing Yuki’s help or the Dog’s Agility spell to make sense of it.

The room itself was interesting but nothing special: A pillared hall with a couple of doors visible near the far end. A large fireplace to the right warmed the room, and sconces at regular intervals lit it. Wooden panels lined the walls, each painted with scenes from the local city and landscapes. The paintings were the most domestic art I’d seen in Albei to date. And they were the complete opposite to the throne Ithia the Land Knight sat on.

A massive skull and jaw, like that of shark, stood at the room’s far end. A cushioned bench had been laid across the bottom, providing a place for Knight Ithia to sit. The throne framed her; it highlighted her and added a real sense of threat to her demeanor. More than that, the throne had weight. Even with my spirit eyes close, I could feel it thrumming against my lids.

There was so much a sense of presence, I tried using my Status camera.

Error

Not a valid talent vessel.

Then, I checked out:

Ithia the Land Knight (Human, Silvered)
Talents: A Warrior Born, Practiced Arms, Hardened Resolve, An Eye for People, Albei’s Protector

She looked about forty-five-years old, but her hair was silver and plaited in a warrior’s braid that circled around her neck. It was the middle of the night, and Ithia still wore her armor and weapons. There was a side sword on her belt and a spear propped up against the throne.

She had an easy posture, and leaned on right elbow with her left foot up on the bench. More than anything, she seemed so powerful that nothing could threaten her.

As we came closer, I saw a handful of small scars on her face, and her eyes gazed right through me just like Silasenei’s had. There were no secrets in her presence. The closer I came, the stronger the effect too. It felt like being smothered with a weighted blanket.

At about twenty feet, my escorts stopped to bow. Then, when Ithia nodded, they turned to leave me behind to face Ithia alone. When the doors shut after them, it was just her and me in the room.

I woke up out of the daze I’d found myself in, and bowed. Meanwhile, Ithia looked on impassively. Was I supposed to say something first? The protocol wasn’t clear, and not something I’d studied beforehand.

I snuck peeks at the throne while I waited. Now that I looking more closely, I saw that the teeth were a mix of pointed and triangular, very much like a shark, but a section of the bottom row had been cut to make room for the bench. The intact ones, though, were at least two to three feet in length. Also, they didn’t come in multiple rows like a shark’s did—

A strand of Yuki’s attention filtered through my consciousness, briefly marveling at the sights around me. Then, they rushed back to Tegen. I felt the spillover as the hunter broke through.

“You’re not awed at all, are you?” Ithia’s voice was gravely, like she’d taken damage to her throat at some point in her life.

My attention snapped back to the land knight. “I am. The creature the skull is from must’ve been enormous. What was it?”

Ithia ignored my question, and asked one of her own in return: “What is it about this Voorhei that raises such fools?”

“But I don’t think we are,” I said, protesting. “Well, our Inleio made a foolish decision, but he wasn’t a fool—just... he did what he felt he had to do for the good of the village, you know?”

“And your Mulallamu follows in his steps, killing members of your own lodge.”

“Hey, hey, hey... that’s enough of that,” I said, getting heated. “That was self-defense, and we have the witnesses to prove it.”

“And what of Miklatsei’s claim that you murdered his once-sister, Otwei.”

“I did no such thing. She was a pest, sure, but that was the kalihchi bear’s doing. Yu—I—”

I blinked, and looked at Ithia, at her almost-lazy demeanor, and realized that I was being more forthcoming than I’d planned. A quick, startled look at my Status revealed:

Conditions
Occupied (Evolving*), Influenced (2)

I poked Yuki, and thought. I may need your help after all.

We almost have the belly dantian refined. Can you hold on for a minute longer?

Sure, okay, I can do that.

My lips felt dry and chapped, my body worn. It’d been such a long day, and the pressure on my shoulders felt heavier and heavier. At the same time, my thoughts jittered from the sudden hit of adrenaline. I took a deep breath, and let it go, casting an Iron Heart at the same time.

I didn’t expect to be attacked or anything like that. It just felt good and grounding. In response, Ithia raised an eyebrow at me.

“Yeah, sorry, no offense. I just realized that I’m—that I’m not feeling very solid. There’ve been three attempts on my life since arriving in Albei. That’s unsettling, you know?”

“I do.” Ithia sat up with a sigh. She gestured for me to come closer, and when I did, she stopped me at about five feet to look me over. “So small, and yet you are the source of so much trouble.”

“You’re talking about the Healer’s Lodge?”

“That, and the murder of the North Wind and his family.”

“How’s that on me?” I demanded.

“Our Voorhei was a peaceful place—mildly remarkable for the quality of its hunters—but that all changed during the summer. If not for you, would your Ghitha have sponsored the bear’s hunt? Would his and Borba’s secrets been revealed?”

Shocked, I asked, “You know about Ghitha? About the murders of Grunthen and Bindeise?”

“Am I fool?” She said, her voice turning angry. “Do you think I would not ask my people to investigate the North Wind’s murder—for all the reasons why it came to be and all the people responsible?”

“No, I don’t think that at all. It’s just—you can’t blame me for all that. People have free will. Their choices are their choices. Borba killed Grunthen. That was him.”

“And your Inleio turned Borba into a mule. And it was your lodge that let him escape.”

As Ithia grew angrier, the pressure ratcheted until I had to let go of Iron Heart to cast Bear’s Strength, or else I would’ve fallen to my knees. And I wasn’t prepared to do that. Not in front of a bully, which was exactly what Ithia was being.

For a second, it looked like she enjoyed watching me struggle, and then she seemed to catch herself. She leaned back, and the pressure vanished completely. Suddenly, I could breathe easier, and a glance at my phone showed that the Influenced condition was gone.

“That was poorly done and unworthy of a warrior.” Ithia closed her eyes, and breathed deeply. “Miklatsei has admitted all his crimes, as well as those of his accomplices. Kuros was the instigator, but Miklatsei and Banan readily agreed in the pursuit of their perceived justice. You are free of any guilt.”

The shift in tone and demeanor was such a shock. I wasn’t sure how to respond at first. I eventually asked, “So why was I brought here?”

She, in turn, surprised me again by asking, “Will you join my land soldiers?”

This whole scene was supposed to be a recruitment pitch? My mind boggled.

Then, out of the blue, I felt a soft chime reverberate from where Yuki lived inside me. Tegen’s belly dantian is fully refined and stable. We’ve put in place the qi pumps and valves to hold it steady until we’re ready to tackle his heart dantian. They merged through me to gather the situation were in, then dropped back out to express their own disbelief at how poorly Ithia had handled us. The answer’s no, right?

“The answer's no,” I said aloud. “A lodge is like a second family, and the hunters are mine.”

"I understand. Then, this tournament of yours—”

“It’s Ikfael’s, the spirit of the land,” I clarified.

“Yet you represent her. You can influence her.”

“Yes, to a degree, but she’s her own person too. The spirits of the land also have free will.”

Ithia waved her hand in the sign for, Yes, yes. Then, said, “Her boon—the Voorhei Hunter’s Lodge will receive it every other year, along with the world speakers.”

“That’s right,” I said, thinking that Silasnei must’ve already briefed her on the arrangement with Iseld.

“Change it to once every five years for both your lodge and the world speakers, and give the remaining three to my land soldiers.”

“And why should Ikfael do that?” I asked.

“She cares for Voorhei and its Hunter’s Lodge, yes?” When I nodded in reply, she continued, “Then, in exchange, I will commit two teams of land soldiers to the village’s defense at the Long Dark for as long as the agreement holds. I will also—” She gritted her teeth and struggled to say, “—I will also ease your lodge’s punishment to four eistaak.”

Four eistaak was the equivalent of two hundred antaak—not an insignificant sum. As for the teams of land soldiers, I wasn’t sure how much they’d cost to hire, but given the dangers of the Long Dark and the quality of Ithia’s people overall, it’d likely be at least ten antaak per team.

So, her offer was two hundred twenty antaak at the start, and twenty antaak per year after that. Which was... cheap, and would continue to get cheaper over time as the initial deposit was averaged out.

My thoughts must’ve leaked onto my face, because she clenched her fists, and said, “Three eistaak, but I cannot go lower. Compensation is owed, and we would be making a mockery of the North Wind and his family if I demand anything less.”

As I thought about the offer, I wondered at her actions—at how visible they were. It was impossible to see through Silasenei for example, and Ithia had been the same way at first, but there was something funny going on, I was sure of it.

Join with me, I thought to Yuki. We merged, and together cast Dog’s Agility before opening our spirit eyes. The world around us distorted almost as if it was being sucked into the mouth of the giant skull. We held our ground, however, and chose to peer at Ithia’s spirit.

She was a valiant silver, steadfast and transcendent. And yet, the smooth, armor-like exterior was fractured, and from within the cracks darklight gleamed, emanating a terrible anger. As Ithia struggled, the fractures closed, only to have her spirit rupture elsewhere.

On a hunch, we checked her talents with our camera:

Ithia the Land Knight (Human, Silvered)
Talents: A Warrior Born, Practiced Arms, Hardened Resolve, An Eye for People, Albei’s Protector
Nascent: A Righteous Rage Suppressed

Somehow, Albei’s land knight was on the verge of turning dark. And suddenly her out-of-proportion reaction to the North Wind’s death was explained. The mystery of her strange behavior during our interrogation, revealed.

How could she do this to herself? To engage in such reckless behavior?

As far as we knew, once a person turned dusk or dark, there was no going back. No matter how much silverlight they absorbed after that point, they’d forever be stuck. That was why people were so careful in regulating the proportions of silver and darklight they absorbed.

For Ithia to have come so close to dark, she must’ve been riding the edge of what was safe. Except, the rest of her spirit looked solid, and this behavior was unlike everything we’d heard about Ithia prior.

None of what we saw made sense. And asking wouldn’t help—we’d only be endangering ourselves. Neither Ithia nor her people would want news of this getting out.

“Remember,” she said, “the stronger my land soldiers are, the stronger our defense of Albei and the nearby villages, Voorhei included.” She lifted her gaze from me to look out and through the walls to the wider world. “You are young, and while you may think you know the dangers this life offers, there are so many more than you can imagine. More and deadlier. More and uglier.”

Ithia chuckled to herself, but the sound was bitter. “Our friends in Ganas and Suguru mock us for our backward ways, but I’ll tell you young Eight, our Ablei is a blessed place. We bleed for it, we die for it, but nowhere else are we as free.”

“My teachers have said that Land Knight Ithia is fair. That she doesn’t steal what isn’t hers by right. Yet, you tried to take Voorhei’s hunters.”

“I did,” Ithia said, her face fracturing and then healing.

“The threats to Albei are that great?” We asked.

“They are,” she said.

Nothing else, and certainly no apology. She had pride then, this Ithia, and she refused to bend. Although, she did correct the lodge’s punishment to something fairer—she’d taken action where necessary—but only if we agreed to the exchange.

So, she was a mix of good and bad, just like everyone else, and the thought made us smile.

“You’ve decided?” she asked, and there was still no pressure from her or threats.

We were free to decide, and we looked around the throne room and saw how plain it was. The wooden panels were beautifully made, as were the pillars, but there was no gold here or trophies or overt displays of wealth. Just power: in Ithia herself and her throne.

“You never told me what creature that is.”

“A kalesk,” Ithia said, tapping the nearest tooth. “This was the biggest recorded in the city’s history. She attacked the walls fourteen years ago, waiting until the last day of the Long Dark when we were at our weakest.”

“How did you kill it?”

“It wasn’t me, but all of us that did it, including the North Wind and his family.” Ithia shook her head. “Every death diminishes us.”

“A truth.”

Ithia took a breath. A drop of her spirit floated clear of her body to revolve around us before remerging with her. “You’re an unusual boy, aren’t you?”

“They call me the Little Pot of Questions.”

Ithia nodded, as if she’d known. “What’s needed now, though, is an answer.”

Three out of every five years was another overreach, but at the same time, I didn’t feel like we could snub the land knight. There were clearly extenuating circumstances in regards to her behavior, and... well... if the tournament had her support, then there was nothing the Healer’s Lodge could do to stop it.

“I believe I can convince Ikfael to give you one out of every three years,” I offered.

“Not enough, our land soldiers—”

“Will be eligible to enter the tournament,” I said interrupting. “Your people have a chance of winning every year. Unless you don’t have confidence in them?”

“I will say no such thing.” Ithia narrowed her eyes at me. “And I suspect we both know that it takes more than confidence to win a battle.”

I shrugged to concede the point, but didn’t say anything else. My offer was as good as she was going to get. To do otherwise would hamstring the growth of the Voorhei hunters, plus we could still use the world speakers’ support. The Healer’s Lodge was a powerful force in the city, and the more people we could win to our side, the better.

So, while butterflies fluttered in my stomach, I held my ground. As the moment drew out into a tense silence and Ithia continued to consider me, I knew that giving in would be the wrong move.

Ithia eyed me, and drummed her fingers on her lap. “I’d forgotten how stubborn our villagers can be. Like mules. Like trees and rocks. Dense and unmoving.” She was clearly pissed, but the pressure from before didn’t return and the dark eruptions across her spirit were under control.

No, Ithia wasn’t happy with me at all, but she also wouldn’t stoop to forcing me to give her a better deal. This—this was the land knight I’d heard so much about.

“You want nothing for yourself?” she asked.

“Only to see my family and friends thrive,” I said.

Ithia shook her head in disbelief. “Are you really a child?”

“I’ve been asked that before, and the answer is always the same.”

We went back and forth a few more times, and Knight Ithia even proposed scrapping the artisan and hunter segments of the tournament as a way to free up more slots for her people, but I held the line and stuck to the principle that the more people invested in the tournament, the safer Voorhei would be.

As the haggling continued, I breathed easier and easier. Ithia was on board and was just fighting for more benefits. In principle, the deal was done. I only had to wait for her to realize that she wouldn’t get any more out of me.

We’d still owe three eistaak, but that was manageable, especially with Iseld willing to back a loan from Kila’s family. Now, it was just a matter of making sure the tournament was a success. If we did that, the Voorhei Hunter’s Lodge’s future would be assured.

Comments

Anonymous

Also, I have a note of criticism that I'd like to articulate while caffeinated. Eight's excitement about the tournament comes across as ghoulish to me. Eight's mentor died a week ago along with the whole family, and Eight just witnessed another family drained of their lives. Yet half his thoughts are about the tournament. He's excited about a new project when he's just witnessed horrors. When you come back to this story in later revisions, maybe you could shift a big part of this excitement to Teila, or have the hunters treat tournament planning more explicitly as a coping mechanism, or move some of the planning to later in the book. To balance the criticism, please know that it took an act of willpower to write up this comment _before_ reading the latest update, and I generally stop whatever I'm doing Saturday afternoon to read the story. It's the only (in-progress) serialized story besides Mother of Learning I haven't eventually lost interest in.

3seed

It's always fine to provide constructive criticism, thank you. The point's a fair one too. My challenge from the moment I started writing book 3 was to find a way to keep it from becoming macabre or overly grim. The first half had the potential of being such a downer that I may have swung too far in the other direction as an overcompensation. I'll read the novel all the way through once it's done, and that'll be when I have the chance to review and refine the emotional journey.

Amber Gregory

I'm finally caught up on all things Eight, and so happy that the story seems to be getting more and more interesting with each chapter. What a wonderful gift a good author has.