MARBLE 6.3: IN THE POTENTIAL
“The Arch-Druid represents the need for all that is heroic. Strength. Empathy. Healing. Reversed, she represents enforced tranquillity. Strength replaced with cowardice. An inversion of empathy. The wound festered, not scarred.”
– from ‘Tarot for Beginners’
My shift with Sol finished, I landed near home and changed out of my robe, shoving it with my mask into my satchel, before making my way down the Springwalk. The alley’s name had never been less apt; Dropswim would’ve been far closer to the truth. The big, powerful river-rats of the Blackrush had pushed west again, and were cavorting happily in the overflowed gutters all around me. It seemed that today someone had not only forgotten to shut the manhole to the demi-plane of sewage, but had actively encouraged its encroachment into our dimension. It was raining, and there were several inches of frosted filth splashing around my new boots, the padded, leather things that were the only sign of wealth I dared wear out when I was being Kas. It was with some real regret that I folded away my wings into nothingness, adjusted my wraithiness down to minimum.
Smog-mist contorting and wreathing through the darkness above me, creaking wooden walls on either side of me, I splashed towards Mud Lane.
I hadn’t gone thirty feet before Zel piped up: “Oh, something’s happening ahead.”
I halted, training my ear on the snatches of sounds.
A girlish woman’s voice, muffled: “Gerroff me! Aah!”
“Shut up, wench,” someone spat. “I put up with you long enough!”
“She doesn’t have long! Murder!”
I sped up, changing my face with a wave of my hand as I went charging through the muck, getting drop right up my pants-legs.
If it’s an impending murder, Zel, you can try actually, you know, putting some urgency into your voice…
“Hurry!”
The alley’s curvature had kept them from my sight, but it was Salli Meleine up against the wall, two men right there in her face.
The knife was already on her throat.
Oh, drop on this!
The wraith-form didn’t let me move quickly – if anything, using that ability to hover would only slow me. But I’d only just put Avaelar’s wings away – when I called them back, they thrust themselves out and caught the air in just a second or two.
I hurled myself towards the pair of ruffians and their prey with a single heavy beat of the fey appendages, and grated out in a Zab-enhanced voice: “Feel like threatening me?”
I had no mask, no robe – nothing but a randomly-conjured face and the massive, gently-glowing sylph-wings protruding through my rain-damp tunic. Nonetheless, the inhuman growl I’d produced seemed to have had an effect – the nearest man to me turned to look over his shoulder, and a single glance was all he needed – he half-waded, half-ran up the Springwalk away from me, abandoning Salli and his mate.
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The other, right in front of Salli with his hand on the dagger-grip, only doubled down when he saw me approaching. I noticed his stubbly jaw setting in determination, his eyes narrowing as he gazed at the oncoming mage.
“Jus’ wha’ d’you want?” he snarled. “Wha’ we got ‘ere is a disagreemen’, me an’ her, and you don’ wan’ to be –“
The collision of my shield with his jabbering face necessitated his sudden shutting-up. The force-barrier pushed him into the wall and freed the barmaid, jarring the knife from his hand as it did so, leaving Salli with a little trickle of blood coursing down her neck.
She winced, raised her hand to the shallow slice, and gave a little moan.
“Here.” I removed my necklace and handed her my healing potion. “Just a sip – it’s quite safe, and you’ll be mended good as new.”
With trembling fingers, she accepted the gleaming phial on its chain.
“As for you…”
I leaned over my circle, then let my right hand go full-wraith and shoved it into the thug’s chest.
One moment he was struggling against the shield pressing him back, fighting to escape, to breathe – then he saw where my hand was and went incredibly, unfathomably still.
“I’ve always wanted to do this,” I said conversationally.
“Eep,” he managed.
“If I undo what I’ve done to my fist, your ticker’s probably in for a rude awakening, and I’m gonna get so much mess all over my fingers… Probably best for both of us if I don’t, eh?”
He nodded frantically, still staring down at my wrist, my hand buried in his body right where his heart should be.
“Can you feel it, in there?”
He shook his head, and this time it was a minute motion. He suspected what was coming.
I grinned. “Now?”
His eyes widened. He nodded and blubbered.
I turned the wraith back up again. “Cool. We good on this? I don’t get to spend the rest of the night scraping your innards out of my nails, and you don’t get ten seconds becoming acquainted with the great whoppin’ hole in your chest before it kills you.”
He nodded once more, contrite at last. There were tears in his eyes.
“If you – if anyone – touches her,” I gestured with my head towards Salli, “I’m coming for you. I won’t start with the heart; I’ll take something less terminal first, work my way up. Do you understand?”
“I – I do,” he looked me up and down manically, “m’lord, I do –“
I drew away and removed my hand, adding a huge sucking sound as an illusory icing on the cake.
Whimpering, the ruffian fled after his fellow. I watched him go – it took him some considerable effort to fight his way upstream.
“’M’lord’,” I muttered derisively, and let the sylph-wings fade again.
Salli had shoved the stopper back into the neck of the phial, the thimbleful of potent healing juice sloshing around inside, the consistency of milk.
“Tastes funny,” she said, passing it back and touching her neck with her other hand.
“I’m informed it’s called pomegranate,” I said.
“Never heard of it.” She smiled at me, sickly sweet. “I guess I… need to thank you.” She looked down at the blood on her fingers.
“It won’t scar,” I said, then realised in the moment that I heard my voice just how stupid I was being.
“Magic stuff,” she commented.
“Lit’rally.” I tried to affect a Lowtown-ish accent, but the damage was already done.
She laughed, infectiously as always, and patted me on the arm. “Oh, give it up already, Kas. The pig’s long-since out the pen. Well?”
I stared at her.
“Are you coming?” she asked, tugging at my elbow. “I always need my spirits topping up when I nearly get killed – don’t know about you… Not seen you in a few weeks, thinking about it. You been alright? Looking after them twins of yours?”
She half-dragged, half-towed me up the Springwalk, and that was how I ended up having drinks at Salli Meleine’s house.
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