Eight 3: Here Comes a Surprise (Patreon)

Hey all. Remember the scene in Undaunted, the one where a kid is willing to become Eight's slave in order for his siblings to learn the Healing Water spell?

You hated it. The folks on Royal Road hated. And even I hated it.

Actually, hate might be too strong a word, but we all sensed that the scene didn't feel authentic to either Eight or Diaksha. So, as part of the revision process, I deleted the scene and came up with something different. Something more dramatic.

A friend reading the story pointed out that Eight never really has a showdown with the Healer's Lodge, so that's what I wrote instead. The scene turned into a whole chapter that was then inserted into the tournament arc.

As a gift to you all, below is the chapter from the finalized manuscript. The events take place after the morning's fights. A land soldier has just demonstrated that it was possible to stall the healers' agent...

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Chapter 42: Here Comes Trouble II

Lunch was duck stew with a vinegary green sauce; I scarfed the bowl down more quickly than it deserved. With the fourth round starting shortly, the field had been winnowed—there were only twenty-nine fighters left in the competition—and my help was needed to refresh the rings. I practically threw the bowl to a servant from Uncle Kila’s household before jumping back to work.

As I laid down new lines of sand and dog piss, I couldn’t help thinking that the next set of bouts should make for an amazing show, no matter what Ichkadeshtu would try to do. The news was out, and people now knew that if they couldn’t win against him, they could just tax his resources, then concede.

Assuming they were willing to concede, of course. The tournament’s big hitters all looked determined to win—each had claimed a section of the plaza for themselves and their people, and they sat listening intently to reports on their opponents’ battles so far.

Glancing over at Ichkadeshtu, I saw that he’d managed to eat several bowls of stew, along with a platter of assorted roasted vegetables and meats his team had acquired from the festival market. That regeneration of his didn’t come free, then; he had to pay for it, at least partially with food. The rest was likely... body power? I hadn’t scented any qi or mana any of the times he’d healed himself.

I would’ve thought he’d try to hide the nature of his healing ability from his opponents, unless he was supremely confident in winning... or... or... I was overthinking things. The other competitors might already know or suspect how his talents worked even if I didn’t. Magic operated along certain principles, after all. So did talents, and both were part of the same System, following the World Spirit’s rules.

While my Talent Scout didn’t cost anything, it was reasonable to assume that something as resource intensive as regeneration would, in which case those resources would need to be replaced. The people of this world would treat that understanding as common knowledge.

As far I knew, only Soul Marks broke the rules. Or, more accurately, they affected how the rules were applied. I planned to ask Ikfael later to confirm my reasoning, but my gut told me I was probably right.

My mind had gone wandering again, and Yuki gave me a gentle squeeze to let me know it was okay—I was almost done laying down the lines. Uncle Kila’s crew hovered nearby, since they would take care of putting the piss and handcart full of sand away.

###

The fourth-round bouts had yet to start, and I anxiously awaited the match between Ichkadeshtu and Shasnasa the Fortress Captain. The land soldier was responsible for Ithia’s fortress during the Long Dark, and his talents leaned heavily toward defense. It promised to be a doozy of a battle.

Unfortunately, Teila came running up to me before they could begin. She surreptitiously signed, “Danger, danger,” letting me know I was needed at the pavilion.

My heart leapt into my throat—my first thought was that something had happened to Ikfael—but the pace of Teila’s approach, her posture, and even the way her anger slithered around her spirit kept me from launching myself at the pavilion.

“What happened?” I signed.

“Someone is here to speak with Ikfael,” Teila said, and with her hands, she added, “Vorkut.”

So, we’d thrown a rock at the healers, and they were... what? Throwing one back?

They couldn’t go after Ikfael; I was sure of that. Between Ithia and Iseld, she had the necessary backing to resist anything the healers might send at her. Unless they really went all out and threatened to deny their services to those factions too, but I couldn’t see them doing that—not when both were critical to the city’s survival. Even the other lodges would object to the crippling of their respective institutions.

It had to be something else, but what?

I hurried after Teila, my guts clenching and my blood boiling. It was like I was split in two—one half worried about what the healers would do next, while the other was incensed by how they’d continually treated us.

My team waited outside the pavilion. Mirrored opposite them were Vorkut’s bodyguards. The two sets of faces were stoic, but I saw the tension threading between them. All had their hands on their weapons.

Mumu’s eyes stayed on the healers’ people even as she instructed Teila to take up a position behind the rest of the team. But to me, she said, “Ikfael is waiting for you inside. Vorkut is with her. He asked for a private exchange, but you can attend since you’re her shrine’s keeper.”

Right. I straightened my gear, then ran my hand through my hair before patting it back down again. I took a steadying breath to firm my determination, and strode up the stairs to pull aside the flap aside.

Vorkut sat on my cushion, off to the side so that he could watch the entrance and Knight Otter at the same time. His expression was composed, giving nothing away, and the same held true for Knight Otter, her face as still as moonlight.

The tableau broke at my arrival—Knight Otter gestured for me to sit, while Vorkut raised an eyebrow.

“Can we begin now?” he asked.

I stole the healer’s idea and moved one of the supplicant cushions so that I could face him while still keeping the entrance in sight too. A quick glance showed Ikfael’s spirit inside the water sculpture, glaring at Vorkut. She nodded to let me know she was ready.

And I blanked. All the thoughts flew out of my head—the scenarios brainstormed with my team, the plans in response, and even the fantasies for making the healers pay for their treatment of us. They were all gone.

The problem was that everything we thought we knew about the healers and their intentions depended on assumptions. Whatever step I took forward, it’d automatically be on shaky ground.

I mean, I knew what they wanted—to restrict Healing Water—but why had they gone to the lengths they did. Was it just greed? The hoarding of power? The protection of the status quo?

The moment drew out long enough for Vorkut’s eyebrow to rise again. Even Ikfael turned to look worriedly at me.

“Are we playing waiting games?” the master healer asked. “Is that what is happening?”

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “I just realized that I don’t know what you really want.”

“That doesn’t matter. And what you want doesn’t matter,” Vorkut said, chopping with his hand to emphasize the words. “I am here to make an exchange with Ikfael. There are rules to be followed, traditions to be respected, and you will stop interfering in the sacred duties of those you serve.”

That last bit had gotten a little heated. Perhaps the master healer isn’t as composed as he pretends to be?

The tournament was already a modest success, and the signs were clear that it’d be even more successful in the future. Their agent had been mostly neutralized, and we’d do our best to filter out that kind of influence in the future. Sure, they’d try to get around those barriers, but we’d continue to come up with ways to stop them.

So far, all their gambits had failed. Despite all the pressure they’d applied, our Hunter’s Lodge had held firm. More than that, we had Knight Ithia nominally on our side. There was a decent chance she’d rule that the Healing Water spell could stay with the hunters, especially since the spell had originally come from a spirit of the land.

Ah, I’d been so reactive, I’d neglected to see the game from their side—the pressure they must’ve been feeling. Healing Water wasn’t a cure-all, but it could fill the need for the most-frequent injuries and poisons. And we’d been stymying their efforts to contain us. It must’ve felt like trying to swat a bee and getting stung over and over, all the while the damn thing refused to die.

All right, then, let’s bring them out into the open. “So what do you want?” I asked.

Vorkut straightened up, and responded directly to Knight Otter. “Two things: The first is that I ask for permission for your Healing Water spell to be learned by those of my lodge. We have other spells with similar effects, but none are so compact. Our philosophers admire its artful creation, and in exchange we offer”—he reached into his pouch to take out a pearl the size of a small onion. Its surface shimmered, and I suddenly felt like I’d been submerged in a deep pool of water—“a transcendent ocean pearl.”

Inside Knight Otter, Ikfael alternated her gaze between the pearl and master healer. I saw her desire but also her distaste.

“What’s the second request?” I asked.

But Vorkut shook his head. “My preference is to treat these requests separately.”

“What if we insisted?” I asked.

“Then I’ll hold to the exchange I’ve already offered, and someone else from the lodge will make the second on their own. Must we really waste time like that?”

Outside, the crowd roared. The bouts must’ve been well under way by now, but I put them out of mind for the time being—I had my own duel to worry about.

Vorkut gazed at me steadily. “Well?”

I made the gesture for, “Wait, thinking.”

Okay, so the benefits of sharing Healing Water with Vorkut’s lodge were:

· More people would be spared from their injuries.

· Ikfael’s reputation for being benevolent would increase, which should strengthen the case for Healing Water’s further spread.

· And, of course, there was the pearl as well as the shoring up of Ikfael’s battered spirit.

On the other hand:

· We’d be reinforcing the status of the Healer’s Lodge and the idea that they were the preeminent source of healing.

· That in turn might damage the hunters’ case, as well as the demand for our allies’, the alchemists, goods.

Could we also exchange Healing Water with the alchemists? If they had a way to stabilize the spell, they could sell it as a potion. I didn’t know if that was feasible, but if so, that’d negate some of the reputational impacts and also create opportunities for the alchemists, especially if the reagents for stabilizing the spell weren’t as rare or expensive as regular healing potions.

Gods, but it was an intriguing idea. And another source of exchange for Ikfael.

Knight Otter seemed to seriously consider the offer, her hand stroking her chin, but when she looked up at Vorkut, she signed, “Go wait outside.”

The master healer blinked in surprise. “What?”

“Outside. Since this decision impacts others I’ve already made, I wish time to consider it.”

“But—”

“It won’t be long.”

Vorkut looked between Knight Otter and me, the confusion giving way to something murkier and difficult to read. He got up as requested, though, and left the pavilion.

As soon as he was out of sight, Knight Otter signed, “What do you think?”

“We should assume people can see our signed conversation,” I replied.

“That can’t be helped. Share only what is safe.”

“Or we could ask Vorkut to wait longer, until after the tournament and we’ve had to time to talk in true privacy.”

Knight Otter gestured, “The tournament’s outcome is uncertain. We may be stronger at the end, or they might. This exchange is their insurance in case things go poorly for them. If we wait, the opportunity may not come again.”

“We don’t know that, not for certain.”

“True, but opportunities can’t always wait for certainty.”

“Is the pearl that valuable?” I asked.

“My affinity for water is strong, but meditating on the pearl would strengthen it even more.”

“Oh, that is nice,” I said, wondering if that was possible for lightning too.

Knight Otter reached over to tap me on the knee. “I know what you are thinking, but focus on the present. Now, your thoughts?”

So, I shared what I considered to be the likely gains and losses from the exchange. Knight Otter nodded along as I signed, and her eyes lit up when I got to the part about the alchemists. Like, seriously, the water sculpture’s eyes lit up, as if she were a real, living being. It was a masterful touch.

“I’m inclined to accept the terms,” Knight Otter signed.

“Is the pearl enough, though?”

“What else would you have us ask for?”

“Something with stone affinity.”

She sat back, surprised. “You wish for me to be ambitious.”

“If you can get it, get it.”

“I told everyone I’d ease the requirements for teaching the spell during the tournament.”

“True, but in this case it’s whole lodges who will be learning it, as well as teaching it to every mana-capable healer who joins in the future. The exchange will affect thousands of people over time—the healers and their patients.”

“You're right, there is an imbalance in the terms. I will do as you suggest.”

“Great. Then, finally, can we make acceptance contingent on hearing the terms of the second exchange?

“That’s not done. Each exchange is a discrete and binding agreement.”

“That’s a magical or spiritual thing?”

“Yes,” she signed.

I leaned in, waiting for further clarification, but Knight Otter quirked her head as if to say that she’d already shared enough.

“You’re sure about this?” I asked.

But Knight Otter shrugged, and signed, “Surety is an illusion.”

So, I got up to call Vorkut back inside. He stood at the front of the platform, hands clasped behind his back, gazing at where most of the spectators were clustered—where Ichkadeshtu fought. I couldn’t make out the details, but from the way the crowd hung on what they were witnessing, the matchup was a close one.

“We’re ready for you,” I said.

Vorkut turned to follow me back inside. Whatever he thought about being forced to wait, he kept to himself.

“How’s it going out there?” I asked despite myself. I couldn’t help wondering.

The question surprised him. “Tolerably well. The city is blessed with strong defenders.”

“Good,” I said, sitting down. “A strong Albei benefits everyone.”

“That it does,” he said, making himself comfortable. Then he looked to Knight Otter. “Have you made your decision?”

The spell orb containing Healing Water appeared in the sculpture’s hand, and she gave it to me to hold for her. “That is the spell you desire, but the terms of the exchange are imbalanced—the long-term benefits outweighed by what you’ve offered.”

Vorkut started to object, but Knight Otter stopped him with a gesture. “This is not a negotiation. We are not haggling.”

“Of course, I understand. What is it you want in exchange, then?”

“The water pearl you offered, as well as something of equal power with stone affinity.”

Vorkut’s impassive gaze turned from Knight Otter to me, and he held it there for a long moment, just looking at me, as if to blame me personally for this turn of events.

“I wonder,” he said finally, “how such a young child could afford such an expensive exchange? If we are speaking of long-term impacts, then he has had his own.”

I stared back. “Don’t you know? Every exchange is a discrete agreement, separate from any that come before and after it.”

And by gods, the man frowned. That impassive face of his gave way to the emotion within him. “You are a menace.”

Oh, how my blood boiled then. I’d been doing well to keep my anger under wraps, but in that moment I wanted to punch him so bad. Yet that wasn’t the kind of man I wanted to be. I’d left that version of Ollie behind, even before this new life of mine had begun.

Only I got to decide who I was and what I’d do. Me, and not anyone else.

So, I leaned back and took a breath. “The deal you’re making is with Honored Ikfael. My suggestion is that you focus your efforts there.”

The frown disappeared as if it’d been an illusion. He turned toward Knight Otter. “My lodge accedes to the terms of this exchange. However, time will be needed to find an item with a suitable level of stone affinity.”

She signed, “That is understandable, and the spell will be given to you after it’s been acquired.”

“Then we have a deal,” he said, and sighed.

“We do. Now, what is the second exchange?” she asked.

“Cease teaching Healing Water to anyone else.” This time, I started to object, but he held up a hand to stop me. “No, hear me out. Don’t teach anyone else the spell. Instead, rely on our lodge to be the agents of your beneficence. We will assign two healers to you—a journeyman and apprentice—to do with as you will. When they pass, they will be replaced by others. For generation after generation, the members of our lodge will serve you.”

He paused to let the idea sink in before continuing: “We will also pay the debts of the Voorhei Hunter’s Lodge, whom you are so fond of, and fully accept your shrine keeper into our lodge without forcing him to leave the hunters. That will require agreement from his present grandmaster, but if she agrees, your Eight will have access to both lodges, fully and unreservedly.”

“All those who already know the spell may continue to use it, but there will be no one else. Heicata of Voorsowen will be the last.” And with that Vorkut sat back, as if he’d won and it was only a matter of time before his opponent recognized their loss.

My jaw dropped. “I’d be able to learn your spells?”

With a certain smugness, he said, “Yes.”

“Including the ones that treat diseases of the body?”

“With enough contributions to the lodge, also yes.”

I let out a shuddering breath. It was like I’d lost control of my body and thoughts, as the implications rolled through me.

Cancer. I’d never have to lose anyone to cancer again.

The idea wouldn’t let me go, but Yuki was there to counterbalance it. ‘We’d just have to let everyone else who would’ve been saved by Healing Water die instead.’

The healers—

‘Aren’t everywhere, and the poor can’t afford them.’

But if I’m inside their lodge, I can work to reform them.

‘Maybe.’ Yuki hesitated. ‘It’s true we’ve been making progress with our Hunter’s Lodge.’

A spark lit within me of hope, excitement, and longing. If we could change the healers and their policies, we can make an even bigger difference than with just one spell.

‘Only if we have allies within their lodge, people who’ll listen. There’s no one like Mumu among them. We’d be going in as enemies. How much time and effort would it take? Could we even remain in Voorhei? The Glen?’

Reluctantly, I admitted, It’d be... it’d be a full-time job.

‘And there’d be no guarantee we’d succeed.’

The spark within me slowly faded. No.

‘Meanwhile, villagers and city folk would die of their injuries because the healers couldn’t get to them in time or were too expensive.’

It’s worse than that, I thought with a grimace. The healers could dangle the spells I want like prizes, getting me to chase them, to do their bidding. I don’t think I’d cave, but they’d do their best to sway me to their side. Years, decades of them trying to wear me down.

‘Oh, Ollie/Eight.’

My hands clenched, and I felt a tear roll down my cheek. I have to say no. I’ll regret it, I know I will, but I need to refuse. Gods, but I hate this so much. Will it be Aluali who gets cancer, do you think? Or Billisha who dies needlessly giving birth? Or any of my family when the next virus sweeps through the village? Because that’s the cost. That’s what we’ll lose.

‘Is death the end?’ Yuki asked, knowing damn well the answer.

No, I replied with sigh. It’s not. And how we live is more important than when we die.

‘So?’

I really do hate this, but then we should’ve expected the healers to come up with an offer impossible to refuse.

‘Except we are.’

Yes. We are.

I looked up to find Vorkut watching me. Knight Otter reached over to wipe the tear from my face, then she placed a comforting hand on my arm. They both knew I was the key to this decision. This exchange was aimed at benefiting me and my family, both those I’d adopted and my lodge.

Oh, I supposed that by me growing stronger and more flexible in my spellcasting, I’d also be of more help to Ikfael as her shrine keeper, but this was effectively a bribe to get me on the healers’ side, then use my influence to win Ikfael over with me.

And I couldn’t fault them for it. The deal was a good one, and if I hadn’t had Yuki to talk sense into me, I might’ve... I might’ve really gone for it.

“No, thank you.” The words came out thready and whisper-like, so I cleared my throat and said more clearly, “No, thank you. Not for me. Don’t do this for me. I’m okay where I am.”

Knight Otter nodded, and more importantly inside the water sculpture, I saw Ikfael’s approving gaze. She understood the implications and agreed with them.

Vorkut slapped his thigh in anger. “This is foolishness.”

“Perhaps, but I have to stick to my principles.”

“And what are they? Greed, barbarism, chaos.” Vorkut shook his head in disgust. Whatever mask he’d been wearing before, he’d given it up.

“Is that what it looks like to you?”

“That is what it is,” he said firmly, “and no savage, no wild child will tell me otherwise.”

“I—”

Knight Otter slapped her hands together to stop our argument. “I value the wisdom of my shrine keeper, but the decision is mine and mine alone. And it is me, me who refuses. Do you understand, master healer?”

Vorkut gritted his teeth. “What if—”

Knight Otter cut him off: “Your goal from this exchange runs counter to my intentions for the peoples of Voorhei and Albei. For me to accept it, your lodge would have to become more open and freer with its services.”

“The healers have a long and storied history of service to the people of Albei.” Vorkut snorted, then seemed to recall himself. He got his face and posture under control. “You should not let yourself be swayed by the deranged imagination of a wild child.”

Knight Otter’s expression turned cold—so cold—as she said, “My fate is my own. What I give, I give willingly. What I take is mine fairly. My exchanges are balanced, and that includes my dealings with my shrine keeper.”

She reached into her chest to pull out the spear Bearbane and placed it beside her. Vorkut watched fascinated, but that turned to alarm when he realized the spirit of the land had armed herself.

Knight Otter signed, “The world speakers assigned my keeper, but it was my decision to accept Eight. His vision aligns with mine. His principles, mine.” Her gestures became more forceful, vehement. “I am not a leaf on the water, I am the river itself. Not the stone rolling down the hill, I am the ground upon which it rolls. Nothing sways me but that which I allow. Cross me, and you shall see how the river rages. Harm what is mine, and the earth itself will swallow you whole.” Her hands stilled, and for a moment it felt like the whole world was in that pavilion, paying attention. “Have I made myself clear?”

“Abundantly.”

“Our first exchange holds true. The second is denied, unless the healers change their stance.”

Anger leaked from Vorkut’s spirit. Some dismay too. Then, the master healer nodded slightly to acknowledge the decision; he wouldn’t bend any further than that. “I will report to my grandmaster. We will find what we owe, but you need to understand… People need laws and boundaries. Without them, they are... Well, I see your firm resolve. A discussion of the nature of humanity won’t do any good. It hardly ever does. I… I’d best take my leave."

For the first time, I saw Vorkut look tired. He didn’t have any issues standing, but he seemed to be carrying some invisible burden. At the exit, he paused as if to say something, but then he walked out.

“Thank you,” I whispered to Knight Otter, bowing.

She nodded to me, to acknowledge my gratitude. A beat later, she reached over once more to put a comforting hand on my arm. From within the cool water, I felt her warm paw.

‘Ikfael is so badass,’ Yuki thought.

She is. And so are you, my dear friend.

If Yuki could’ve blushed, they would’ve, and they reflected back my care and affection.

I was comforted by two dear friends, because they’d both sensed the despondency I had been doing my best to bury. We’d won, but I couldn’t help thinking about what I'd lost by doing so.