Chapter 311. Subterfuge (Patreon)

I pull at the transformative energy of the dagger and Maria appears before me. She reaches out her arms to steady me, anticipating sudden weakness.

I stare blankly at my hands and bare wrists. I feel fine. Meeting Maria’s concerned gaze, I say, “It worked.”

“For now,” she says, her expression still severe. “In a few hours, you may have need of me again.”

I nod. “We shall see.” I turn to Red and clear my throat. He takes the hint and disappears into his quarters, the door closing behind him.

I lean my forehead against Maria’s and close my eyes. Her fingers press into my shoulders and pulls me closer into a tight hug. I don’t feel like moving, but my bone spider constructs are eager to do my bidding and manage to push the bed across the floor. Maria and I fall lightly onto it, still embracing.

It’s the first time in months that we haven’t had a timer ticking down on us, that we finally have a potential path forward on my condition.

I know that it weighed upon us both, I think to her, my head buried in her hair. This curse with no defined end, one that kept us apart by keeping us too close. A terrible paradox.

We’re not staying in Starbreak for long, Maria points out, so the solution isn’t permanent.

But we know a solution exists, and we’ve confirmed that the problem is linked to my affinities.

She gives me a soft kiss on the cheek. If only all our problems were so easily solved.

I pull back slightly so I can see her expression, raising an eyebrow. Easily?

She smiles, her eyes crinkling as she pushes me from the side so we both lie on the bed.

—

We must have fallen asleep like that. Red knocks on the door and I awaken with a start, my bone spiders orienting toward the door in eerie synchrony. He opens the threshold, eyeing the constructs apathetically.

After all we’ve been through in the competition, it’s hard to see him the same way. His eyes–perpetually owlish–and thin frame give him the air of an intellectual. But beneath that exterior is a ruthless fighter–ruthless, at least, when his opponents are simulated.

“No one has come for us,” Red states simply as he leans against the wall, one foot pressing behind him onto the transparent, window-like rock. “It would be fine if it were me, but you’re an ancient. There should be more fanfare accompanying your arrival.”

Maria’s arms press comfortingly around my waist. Out of an abundance of caution, my bone mask still obscures her features.

“Who knows; maybe they think I would prefer not to be disturbed,” I say half-heartedly as I withdraw the transmission artifact. Red’s eyes watch as I roll it between my hands.

I press the activator and appear next to Red. He starts at my appearance, nearly falling off the wall, hopping on one foot.

I chuckle. “It’s not often I get to startle you.”

Red raises an eyebrow. “Have your fun while it lasts.” He switches to mental communication. “What are you planning?”

I turn to see myself limp in Maria’s arms. As a lich, her strength is nothing to balk at; she supports my body effortlessly. I focus on the wall, pressing my hand against it, testing out the resistance of the mystical black rock.

My incorporeal hand enters the rock without issue. I try to reply mentally, only to remember that while using the transmission artifact, it’s not possible to use my Remorse affinity. I can only receive mental communications. This was the problem that I ran into with Euryphel–I could talk to him using Remorse, but the conversation was one-sided. He couldn’t respond without speaking out loud.

I deactivate the transmission artifact, returning to my body. Blinking, I peer up at Maria and smile as she rubs her thumb over my jaw. Then I focus on Red and continue our mental conversation.

“I want to know what has had Lucinda rushing home.”

“Why?”

I chuckle sharply and sit up. “I’m almost certain the trouble is regarding us and Achemiss. I was thinking to pass through these walls–” I gesture to the expanse of the sky “–and climb over the fist until reaching the ring finger.”

“People might see you,” Red points out.

“Does that matter? Cursory is supposed to be my escort, but he’s left us alone here for hours. Like you said, it’s not the proper way to welcome an ancient. I don’t think it’s in my best interest to be well-behaved if I am treated in such a way.”

Red frowns. “You’re testing the black faction’s reaction?”

I shrug. “I’m sending a message–the mystic black rock of theirs cannot contain me. Besides, they said I needed to have an escort when beyond my room. When I’m using the artifact, however, I’m still physically in my room. I’m only breaking the spirit of the agreement.”

This mollifies the ascendant. “Why not simply appear next to Cursory or even Lucinda? The artifact allows you to appear close to whoever you choose.”

“That would reveal more than I’d like to,” I explain. “If they think I simply have the ability to create a projection, that’s perfect.”

Good luck, Maria thinks. She gets up from the bed and stands next to Red, her arms crossed against her chest.

I reactivate the transmission artifact. Giving the two a nod, I push through the rock and emerge on the exterior of the fist.

My projection’s incorporeality obeys peculiar rules. As I learned through prior experiments with Euryphel, I cannot travel through large expanses of solid matter without getting stuck. Thankfully, the rock of the fist isn’t thick enough to prevent my passage. I stop with my torso sticking out of the rock, my head swiveling to take in the vast, black contours of the fist. It’s strange to see my body sticking out of solid, black rock when, from the other side, the rock appears transparent.

I dig my fingers into the rock and scale the fist. Without the assistance of affinities and ascendant energy, free soloing a sheer building without handholds sounds impossible. Since I can stick my limbs into the rock, however, everywhere is a handhold; it’s not much of a challenge.

Even though I’m a projection, my ability to climb and maneuver relies on my physical strength and agility. With a physique sculpted with decemancy and honed through sparring, I move swiftly over the rock face. In less than a minute, I stand on the knuckle of the ring finger.

Carefully–very carefully–I ease myself into the stone, face first, and look around. I find an empty hallway.

Satisfied, I drop down and traverse the hall. The bottom opens up ahead, revealing a sheer drop. I leap down, falling twenty or so feet. The chute curves like a slide, but my body half sinks into the rock, rather than sliding as intended.

With a grunt, I pull myself from the ground and walk the rest of the way. I emerge in an atrium similar to that in the thumb. It has a tall, domed ceiling and doors appear in the wall every ten feet or so.

If I’m coming from the knuckle of the finger, then the door straight ahead should be the tip of the finger–the crescent of the nail.

If the ring finger mimics the structure of the thumb, only the ceiling and outer side of the finger will have sections of stone with the properties of a one-way mirror. But. If the interior walls are a one-way mirror, oriented so that people within the crescent room can see into the atrium, I will have already been discovered. I’ll be the only one who doesn’t know it.

These walls are a nightmare for subterfuge.

Assuming that all eyes are already on me–though hoping that they aren’t–I cross the chamber, my body tense. Everything I told Red is true–I’m technically not breaking any rules. But now that I’m facing the door where Lucinda and her associates are probably gathered, my confidence wavers.

I need to be able to expose my ear without anyone noticing. It’ll be easier to escape notice since everyone’s affinities are dampened, including that of Beginning practitioners. Even so, a disembodied ear will be rather obvious if it’s at the ground level. I’ll get into a better position once I confirm I haven’t been discovered.

If I have been discovered, I’ll just… enter the room, I suppose.

I steel my nerves and lean my head into the wall. I stop as soon as I hear conversation.

“–is unreasonable,” an unfamiliar voice says, an alto with a slight lisp. “We don’t need him if he’s going to be uncooperative. It’s best if we strike now and take what we want.”

“If it were so easy, we would have done so long before now.”

Satisfied that I haven’t yet been discovered, I withdraw my ear and turn my head toward the roof of the atrium. I press against the wall and climb. When I’m as convinced as I can be that I’ve found a good position near the corner of the room, I step into the wall, trying to fully conceal myself in the solid rock so that nothing is exposed. Then I lean my head forward again until my ear just barely sticks out.

“He killed Ari. He isn’t obedient, but he does do our bidding when it suits him. As I’ve argued for the past two hours, he’s a useful ally. We should not alienate him.”

I suspected they were talking about Achemiss before, but this confirms it.

Lucinda speaks next. “We can’t afford to wait. With his ability to send constructs to mortal realms and reap powerful peak practitioner souls to create artifacts, his growth will only accelerate.”

“That has always been a known concern,” a man says, his voice deep and mellifluous. “We called this meeting because of more recent developments, ones that you corroborated with intelligence gathered at the Hall of Ascension’s competition. At least one faction possesses an Achemiss artifact that we have no records of, proof that he has reneged on our contract.” The man pauses, his fingers rapping on what I assume to be a table. “When did we last hear from Ancient Devinir?”

“Four thousand years ago,” the woman with the lisp responds. “And we don’t know where he is–probably in seclusion somewhere on the edge of Eternity.”

“Ancient Pluma?” the man asks.

“She visited the faction more recently, but her affinities aren’t a good match. Sun, Moon, and Light are all potent in their own respects, but Achemiss’s bunker is built to withstand the most powerful bombardments, and he has contingencies to facilitate escape.”

Lucinda clears her throat. “Which brings the conversation back to Ancient Black.”

A new voice speaks, a soft tenor. “Achemiss claimed that he wasn’t willing to meet Ancient Black in person.”

“I don’t know what artifact Black has, but Achemiss wants it badly,” Lucinda states. “I think there’s a way we can get them to meet in person, especially since Black has specifically requested it. And when they do… Black will have an unmatched opportunity to get us what we want.”

“He’s a new ancient,” the man with the deep voice says, his tone thick with skepticism. “Why do you think he would succeed where any of us would fail? To defeat Achemiss, one must be able to deal with both of his affinities, Death and Dark. The combination is extremely potent–Achemiss uses artifacts and minions to attack while making himself incorporeal and retreating to safety.

“Black can deal with his Death constructs, but he has nothing to counter Achemiss’s Dark affinity or arsenal of artifacts,” the man concludes.

“That’s a lovely speech, Sindragos, but you’re wrong.” Lucinda’s voice is almost gleeful. “Let me show you.”