“Don’t break the silverware,” Maryne told Tansy, eying the fork she’d bent.
“Sorry, but ...” Tansy sent a pleading gaze my way. “Can I ask about your gem?”
I lifted an empty hand, then bamfed a hatchet into my palm.
“Sweet garigrass!” she blurted, her brown eyes wide.
Hollis whistled, and I popped the hatchet back into my domain.
“Do it again!” Tansy said. “Do it again!”
I did it again.
“That’s just ... wow.” She tapped one of her tusks in excitement. “Wow. And you can turn them to fog and then reform them?”
“Sort of,” I said.
“May I hold it?” Hollis asked, looking at my hatchet.
“Not at the table, dear,” Maryne said.
Tansy jumped to her feet. “Then let’s clear the plates and--“
“I’ll clear the table,” Maryne told her, with a wry smile. “While you politely ask Alex if he doesn’t mind sharing his private abilities with you downstairs.”
I blipped my hatchet away. “It’s fine.”
“Maryne’s not even old,” Tansy told me in a stage whisper. “She only acts that way.”
Hollis cuffed her head, and said, “And you’re not a child, you only act that way.”
“If I acted like I child,” she told him, with mock dignity, “I’d start whining. Please can we go downstairs now? Please? Pleeeeease?”
He snorted a laugh, then stood fro the table and led us across the big room toward the ‘stage.’ Tansy introduced a dozen other people--all infenti--on the way, but I immediately forgot their names. I was a little concerned that she referred to herself as my ‘bodyguard’ or ‘warden’ or ‘most devoted servant,’ but mostly I just smiled at her hyper energy. A couple of others joined us, though, as we walked to the far side of the stage.
Where, to my surprise, a skystone-illuminated staircase led downward, deeper into the ruins.
“The first few layers below street level are regular basements and cellars,” Harris told me, “like this one and the next floor down. Just ordinary subterranean spaces. But if you go deeper than that, you end up in the Old City. Which we stay away from.”
“Beause we’re boring,” Tansy added.
Hollis ignored her. “Because the Old City can be dangerous.”
“You mean like a dungeon?” I asked him.
“Huh?”
“I mean, an underground city full of dangers definitely sounds like a dungeon.” I almost laughed, feeling a weird thrill at the idea. “Please tell me you’re talking about a dungeon!”
“Uh. Well, I’m sure there a few dungeons and gaols in Old City, but there are more abandoned taverns and tenements and shops and, uh--“
“Everything else,” Tansy said. “All the things that make a city a city were in Old City before it became an underground city. Why are you so interested in dungeons?”
“Oh, no reason.”
“Because you want to lock the Sixers in the Old City!” she said, her dark eyes gleaming. “See? This is why I pledge to you! What a clever idea. So cruel!”
“Well, I--”
“We’ll beat them until they can’t stand then make them crawl into cells and lock them away forever. Starve them. Make them die slowly, in the darkness and--”
Hollis tsked. “That’s enough, Tansy. You’re frightening Alex.”
“I barely even started,” she told him. “And he’s not scared.”
“I’m shaking in my boots,” I said. “And the reason I asked is that I, uh, read a story about a dungeon once. Where there were monsters and, uh, treasures and stuff.”
“I’m pretty sure people picked the place clean of treasures ages ago,” Tansy told me, “so no treasures. Plenty of monsters, though, and that’s the important part.”
“Don’t listen to Tansy,” Hollis told me. “We stay out of the Old City. We have enough problems without picking fights with redworms, wraiths, and kobolds.”
Kobolds? Yeah, that sounded exactly like a dungeon. I didn’t ask about treasure chests and boss fights, though. Partly because they thought I was weird enough already, and partly because ransacking a dungeon wasn’t on my Top Ten List of things to do. Unlike, say, saving Erdinand, finding a source of honeydew candy, and putting a few gemmed assholes to the axe.
“I’m pretty fond of fresh air,” I said. “And my policy with wraiths is to avoid them. I won’t go below the normal cellars.”
“Well, we can’t offer fresh air, but at least the skystones give light.” Hollis reached the end of the stairway. “This here is the bottom of the cellars. And it’s where we train.”
The steps ended in a chamber with a high vaulted ceiling and dozens, or maybe even hundreds, of columns. The basic shapes or construction reminded me a little of the Temple of the Billowing Ones, actually. Though far, far, larger. Like two football fields, end-to-end.
“How old is the Old City?” I asked, as I stepped into the long, vaulted room.
“A thousand years?” Hollis led me to a large circular space between columns. “Nobody knows exactly, though its definitely pre-Sundering.”
“Which we all say was a thousand years ago,” Tansy told me. “Though I think it just means ‘a long, long time.’”
Hollis gestured. “So this is our sparring pit.”
Crude benches surrounded the open space, and crude racks stood between a few of them, displaying not-so-crude weapons. A few armored calf-guards leaned against a column and a chain mail shirt draped a bench, and a second bench held a row of helmets, two of which were ollie-sized. A few battered training dummies stood here and three among the columns, and a row of archery targets lined the wall. There was even a table with what looked like drinks and refreshments.
“So you’ve been here a while?” I asked.
“We started preparing before the bridge fully formed,” Hollis told me.
“Do you have a ... plan?” I said, while offering a hatchet to Hollis.
He started to answer, then took the hatchet from my hand, almost reverently.
“You have two of those, right?” Tansy asked, her eyes hopeful.
“Hah,” I said, and gave her the other one.
In their hands, my hatchets--which were the size of regular axes now, having reshaped after the blessing in the tombyard--looked more like hatchets again. Hell, the one in Hollis’s hands looked almost like a toy. Though he still treated it with utmost respect.
A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
And after he tested the edge on his forearm, he whistled. “Gemmed weapons. Sharp.”
“Yeah, they’re upgraded,” I said. “I don’t really know how that works.”
“Ah, but now you’re disarmed,” he rumbled. “Look at you, empty-handed! You are at our mercy, foolish human.”
He raised my hatchet in mock-threat, not even moving toward me, as Tansy watched with eager brown eyes. I snorted in amusement. I knew what he wanted, so I recalled the ‘attacking’ hatchet from his hand. When it turned to smoke in his grip, he gave a bark of surprise and pleasure.
“You can do that at will?” he asked. “What about from a greater dist--“
Tansy hurled her hatchet toward a cluster of infenti spectators. They yelped and dodged before I recalled that hatchet from mid-air.
She laughed as the spectators swore at her. “Sweet garigrass, that’s amazing. Good balance, too!” Then she made grabby hands toward me. “Gimme gimme gimme!”
I gave her the hatchet back, then handed Hollis the other one, and that time they each went through slow motion weapons forms for a minute or two, then just inspected the weapons before returning them.
“My wife wouldn’t approve of me asking this,” Hollis told me. “Maryne thinks we should focus on paying our debt to you, instead of accruing more debt. She’s right, as always, but ... will you spar with me?”
“I haven’t done much sparring,” I admitted.
“Then how did you train?”
“Trial and error. I, uh, have an aptitude for axes.”
He snorted and grabbed a spear the size of a sapling. “Come, we’ll start slow.”
“Should I use blunted axes?”
“I’m not so fragile.” He smiled behind his trunk. “Still I’d appreciate if you don’t do to me what you did Dordor. Killed in a single blow. Maryne would hate going to all the trouble of finding a brand new husband.”
“I wouldn’t do that to her,” I assured him.
“Good. Now take defense only for a time. No attacking.”
He jabbed at me halfheartedly with his spear, and I couldn’t decide if I wanted to reveal my full abilities or not. On the one hand, these people hadn’t attacked me while I’d slept, but instead pledged themselves to me. On the other hand, keeping that information quiet had helped me escape from my cell. On the third hand, Hollis and the others would see my full powers as soon as they watched me fight for real. Which would undoubtedly happen when I rescued Erdinand. And crucially, I wanted their help rescuing Erdinand, and I immediately just liked them, so I should be honest with them. Though that made four hands which--
<--aren’t nearly enough,> Princess murmured into my head.
I ignored her, and batted away Hollis’s spear.
He jabbed again, still slowly, and I parried again, also in slow motion.
We did that a handful of times, then he shifted his oversized feet and swung the spear like a quarterstaff, lashing at me faster with the shaft.
I deflected, deflected, then dodged a follow-through swipe.
When Hollis saw that I moved okay, he started attacking more quickly. He jabbed, swung, and slashed--and his ‘spearpoint’ was almost as big as a short sword blade. He circled me, first testing my reflexes, then moving in a weaving circle, darting in and out. I dodged, parried, and deflected as his attacks came faster and faster. Soon we were moving together as if in a dance, and the clack-clack-clack of our weapons echoed in the wide underground space.
Hollis was quick, far quicker than I’d expected given his zie, and his limbs were so long that he managed to be everywhere at once. He lunged suddenly and broke through my defense. The edge of his spear sliced my sleeve but only scratched my skin.
“Okay?” he asked.
I grinned. “I’m no so fragile either.”
“Good. Now defend, but also throw a hatchet whenever you choose.”
I grunted acknowledgement and kept defending for another ten seconds, then another fifteen. After we reestablished our rhythm, I raised a hatchet to block--and at the last second I tossed it at his face.
“Ha!” he said, rearing away and losing his initiative.
He returned, and starting pressing his attacks. I blocked twice with my remaining weapon, then the first reformed in my hand and I parried another swing and I threw that same one again, that time at his stomach. His spear blurred and he barely managed to knock my weapon to the ground.
By the time he closed on me again, I was holding both hatchets again.
He laughed as he renewed his attack. “That’s a sonofabitch to fight. I knew you could do it, but it still changes everything. You’ve got a close-range missile in addition to--“
I threw the hatchet--and a heartbeat later, I threw the other one. The second caught him a glancing blow with the flat of the blade, and I said, “Two close-range missiles.”
“Pity you can’t aim them,” he said, his eyes sparkling. “Okay, now defend, throw, and attack.”
So I immediately chopped through the haft of his spear. Yeah, my hatchets were pretty upgraded. Sharp and blessed to Emerald-tier, whatever that meant.
The bladed half of his spear clattered to the ground and the spectators murmured.
I figured that losing his weapon would stop Hollie, but it seemed to energize him. He spun the remaining half of his spear in one hand as he backed away three steps, his eyes sparkling.
When I pursued, he circled again--then he somehow flipped the broken half of his spear from the ground into his free hand with his boot. Damn. So smooth. Now armed with two weapons again, he threw himself at me, a fighting stick in one hand and a short spear--well, short for him--in the other.
Apparently all I’d achieved was giving him a second weapon.
His spears jabbed and slashed and parried. I pressed my attack, taking two hard smacks on my toughened side to hit him once with the mace-head of my left-hand hatchet. He stumbled backwards a step, cursing happily, but still managed to deflect my thrown hatchet.
Well, he was level 10 after all.
I pushed him harder, trying to get close enough to land a solid blow. When he started focusing on defense, though, I simply couldn’t get inside his guard.
So after a few minutes, I said, “Can I try something new?”
“Please,” he said.
I aimed a flurry of chops at him, shifting completely to offense. A frantic, reckless, berserking attack. He blocked the first few chops, his spears a blur--then he found an opening and slashed at me.
So I turned to smoke.
The lack of resistance to his blow unbalanced him and I reappeared inside his range, my hatchet already swinging at his chest. Not too hard. The edge sliced through his armor but didn’t penetrate his thick elephant hide deeply.
“Mercy!” he cried, with another laugh. “Your match!”
I bamfed my hatchets into my domain then started to catch my breath.
“Ha. Magic axes and turning to fog. Hardly fair.” He seemed pleased about losing, though, judging from his smile. “I thought I might actually beat a gifted for once.”
“A gem is such a cheat.”
“Wait until you meet someone with more than one. Which ... I think I just did?”
“No, I’ve only got the one.”
“So it’s a gem of ... smoke weapon?” he guessed. “And if you consider yourself a weapon, you can turn to smoke, too?”
“Something like that,” I said. “But I can only do it for a few seconds.”
“So far,” Holli said aloud, and clapped me on the shoulder, which almost sent me reeling. “I can’t beat you, but that doesn’t mean I can’t train you.”
“Hollis was a militia trainer for years,” Tansy called from the sidelines, “because he’s old.”
“Your style is your own,” Hollis told me, “and you’re gemmed, which means you must let your powers guide you. Still, your foundation is uneven. And I, uh ...” He shrugged. “I can’t think of a better way to start repaying my debt than to help you develop it.”
“I can!” Tansy said. “This goofy human doesn’t know anything. He needs a loyal servant.”
“He’d beat you in a spar,” Hollis told her.
“Not without his powers,” she said.
“After three days of my training, he won’t even need them.”
“You really don’t have to worry about repaying me,” I said.
“I’m not worried,” Hollis told me. “I’m indebted. And the odd truth is, you can’t decide when I’ve paid my debt. Only I know when things feel even. So please. You’re a natural, but let me teach you what I can.”
QUEST: Train your hatchet skills.
REWARD: Minor expoi and--you’ll never guess--improved hatchet skills.
Thanks, you clown, I snapped at the notification. That was already my plan. I don’t need you poking your red nose into everything.
“I’d appreciate that,” I told Hollis..
“My repayment is way better,” Tansy told Hollis.
“Working as his personal maidservant for a few years?“
“His bodyguard!” she said. “He saved Alice’s life, and all the little ones. Oh! Oh, or if you don’t want a bodyguard, I could bring you the ears of twenty-seven Sixers.”
“Uh.” I blinked at her. “What?”
“I’ll bring you the ears of twenty-seven Sixers,” she repeated. “The left ears, unless you prefer the right, though I don’t know why you would. What I mean is, I’ll chop them off the corpses after I kill them and--“
“I got that much,” I interrupted. “But ... why twenty-seven?”
“Isn’t that enough?”
“It’s more than enough.”
“Oh good!” She hugged me, which felt like being hugged by a leather couch. “Then you agree.”
“I don’t agree!” I said, still caught in her embrace. “What am I going to do with twenty-seven ears?”
“Make a necklace?”
I pushed her away. “First, that’s disgusting. And second--no.”
“Fine,” she said. “I’d rather be your warden. Captain of the guard and all that.”
“I don’t know, I like the maidservant idea. You can fold my laundry and brush my hair.”
“I’m too old to play with dolls,” she said, looking down at me.
“Ouch,” I said.
“Ha!” Tansy socked me in the shoulder. “C’mon, make room for the others.”
She led me from the sparring circle toward the refreshment table and poured me a drink from a bucket with water and citrus peels. The other people started sparring, and Hollis called instructions while I slaked my thirst.
Then I told Tansy, “I actually am going to need help with something.”
“If you say ‘tucking me in at night ...’”
“No. Uh, my friend Erdinand is still locked up. He’s the crachen who helped those ollie kids. Give me a hand freeing him and I’ll owe you.”
“If it involves killing Sixers,” she said, “I’ll just owe you more. You have any idea how you’re going to free him?”
“Not a single one. Well, I guess the first thing is to ask what you all know about the prison where he’s being held?”
“That’s easy. Ask Chetty. She’s Chettur’s daughter. She’s also named Chettur, so we call her Chetty. She handles the spying.”
“Oh.” That was easy. “Great.”
“But she’s not here now, so the first thing is, train with Hollis--and me. I never fought a gifted before, and I need to understand your weaknesses if I’m supposed to compensate for them.”
“You’re not serious about that whole bodyguard thing, are you?”
“Nah,” she said, scratching her trunk.
In my mind, Princess said,